Disappearing Act
by viridiansky
Summary: Albus Severus Potter was ready to take the world by storm by age seven. Sadly, he knew that everyone just saw him as Harry Potter, Mk. II, not as himself. The obvious solution? To attend Hogwarts disguised and under a pseudonym, with his father's help. Of course, running from the Potter name brings its own difficulties - and Hogwarts isn't the nicest place for a young Slytherin.
1. A Taste of Fame

A/N: I enjoy the fan-favourite Next Gen characterizations as much as the next person, but I wanted to see it mixed up a bit. See, for some reason there's a lot of variety if you look for it with Albus, with him in anything from Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw (although Slytherin is predominant), but other characters' characterizations seem to have a lot less variation.

So here's a different James, to start off with!

Moved from my old account for privacy reasons.

* * *

 **Disappearing Act**

* * *

Chapter 1: Taste of Fame

* * *

When Albus Severus Potter was seven, he got his first taste of fame.

He hadn't liked it- or well, he hadn't liked it _much._

His father had taken him and James to visit Diagon Alley for the first time. His mother had been against it, but Harry had insisted that they both needed to see more than the houses of relatives and family friends.

James, who had never been to Diagon Alley before either, was beside himself with excitement the moment that he heard the news. Lily wanted to go as well, but Ginny put her foot down at that. She refused to let Lily go just yet.

"She isn't ready for it," she insisted.

Harry didn't argue, respecting Ginny's wishes. He likely agreed as well. Lily, on the hand, threw quite the temper tantrum. However, she was easily subdued with the promise of being taken once _she_ turned seven, although she remained quite dissatisfied.

James was somewhat irritated at the fact that _he_ hadn't been taken to Diagon Alley when _he_ was seven. Of course, he kept his complaints from his parents, not wanting to be prevented from visiting the Alley. He instead rattled off all his complaints in private to Albus, who patiently listened.

When the day of the visit finally arrived, Harry cast a spell over both of them, fading their dark hair to a sandy blonde and altering their jawlines in a way that made them unrecognizable. He then proceeded to cast the same spell over himself. James and Albus laughed themselves silly over their appearances for a minute or two, but quickly shushed up once Harry gave them a pointed look.

"Don't tell people who you really are if they ask, alright? Just say your first names." Harry instructed, crouching down to look at each of them in turn. "There'll be problems if people find out who we are."

"How come?" Albus asked, rather confused at all the secrecy.

Harry hesitated, before giving them a faint smile and shrugging. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell you when you're a bit older, alright?"

James looked a bit disgruntled at his father's careful side-stepping of the question. He opened his mouth to object.

"But I-"

"- Now, we'll be going through the Floo, alright?" Harry cut in, pointedly ignoring James' grumblings. To be fair, James seemed to complain about everything nowadays. "I'm afraid I can't side-along the both of you. You've used the Floo before, so you know what to do, right?"

James and Albus both nodded confidently.

"Remember to pronounce it clearly," Harry said. He then handed James a Muggle pen, larger than most but still small enough to fit into a pocket. "This is a Portkey. If you get into trouble and need to get back home, say 'Poppysticks' while you're both holding onto it, alright?"

"We're just going to Diagon Alley! Rose said she went before and didn't have any trouble." James grumbled again, taking the pen nevertheless.

"Just in case, alright?" Harry smiled reassuringly. "It'll make your mother and I feel better."

Harry insisted on getting the both of them to repeat 'Diagon Alley' three times in a row before he was finally satisfied enough to allow them to enter the floo. One after another, they arrived at Diagon Alley.

Things went absolutely marvelously, at first. They visited various shops in the Alley, and while the only thing Harry would buy for them was candy, it was still a wonderful experience.

That is, until Harry had spotted a pickpocket.

"Go inside and bother your uncle," Harry told the two of them, leaving them in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and racing towards the pickpocket. Harry was quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

"As if," James muttered after a short moment. He shot Albus a wicked smile. "Wanna go see what Dad's doing?"

"We should listen to Dad," Albus objected nervously. The crowd was very thick, and he didn't want to risk getting lost.

"C'mon, Al," James wheedled. "We never see what sort of things Dad's doing as an Auror. I mean, sure, I guess this isn't as awesome as him dueling a dark wizard or something, but it's _something_."

"I don't think-" Albus started.

"Oops, too late, I'm going," James said cheerfully, setting out into the crowd. For a brief moment, Albus considered staying where he was, but he was only eight. He didn't want to enter an unfamiliar shop all on his own. Quickly, he darted after James.

"You don't even know where you're going!" Albus said, visibly frustrated.

Rolling his eyes, James snapped something back at Albus, but his words were drowned out by a loud voice suddenly sounding from the right.

" _You're_ the pickpocket! You're just pinning the crime on me!"

The two of them struggled through the crowd towards the sound of the voice. Finally, they reached a small open space where two men were facing each other off; one of them Harry. Unfortunately, they didn't quite realize in time that the crowd had formed an open space. They stumbled right into their father with a yelp.

"Sir, why would I pickpocket someone just to return their money bag late - _Albus? James?_ "

"Hi, Dad," James said bravely. Albus just gulped at the freezing glare shot in their direction.

"Albus and James? And you're apparently a Harry…" the man in front of Harry murmured. His eyes brightened dangerously.

" _Finite Incantem!"_ the man shouted, whipping out his wand and shooting the spell point-blank towards James and Albus. Harry, his body moving automatically, took the spell instead, his glamour fading. In the confusion, the man ran into the crowd, shouting as he went.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter's in Diagon Alley with his _sons_!"

Harry said a few choice words that Ginny had told them not to say.

"James! Portkey. Now. I'll follow later." Harry hissed, moments before the crowd closed in.

Somehow, the two of them managed to grab ahold of the portkey and activate it. The world appeared to twist into a maelstrom of different colours. Albus felt terribly squished. Just when he was starting to worry about suffocating, the ordeal ended and the two of them landed in the living room of their house. He let go of the pen.

It loudly clattered to the ground.

James placed his hand over his mouth, attempting to prevent himself from throwing up. Albus bit his lip, also trying to hold back his queasiness.

Harry apparated into the living room a few moments later. Albus and James stared up at Harry silently for a few awkward moments.

"I think that if we go to Diagon Alley again," Harry said finally, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It'd be best if we brought along your mother as well. She'll be responsible enough for the three of us. I'm sorry you had to see that."

But, Albus admitted something to himself, later that day when he reflected on the experience. It was true that all those people crowding around had been scary- downright terrifying, even. But the idea that all those people had gotten all worked up because of just one person…

… that was interesting.

* * *

When Albus Severus Potter was nine, he got his first major doubts about fame.

It had been summertime, when James had just returned from his first year at Hogwarts. Albus and James remained close enough, although James was still prone to occasionally teasing him. Lily, on the other hand, had decided a few months ago that 'boys were icky' and now spent most of her time with her cousins Rose and Roxanne.

"C'mon, tell me more about Hogwarts!" Albus whined, tugging at James' sleeve. "You barely said anything in your letters- I mean, when you sent them at all."

"I knew Dad and Mum would read all the letters I sent you," James muttered, walking towards his room, Albus following right behind. Once the two of them entered James' room, James closed his door softly and flopped onto the bed, gesturing for Albus to sit on his chair.

Albus obliged, blinking in confusion.

"It's just…" James sighed. "Look, everyone, they look at me, and they don't see _me_. You and Lily are the only ones that really do, and even Lily is starting to see something else; from the letters Fred sent to Roxanne, I'd bet."

"What do you mean?" Albus asked, ever patiently. "Who would they see?"

"Dad," James said, before pausing and shaking his head, sighing again. "No, not Dad. They see Dad's dad. Our grandpa."

"No one even knows what he was like, really- not even Dad, not really, right?" Albus pointed out. "Just because you share a name with him doesn't mean people expect you to _be_ him. Are you sure you're not being para-"

"I'm _not!_ " James snapped irritably, eyes flashing. "Besides, some of the professors remember, and they're the worst. They're all like 'Be careful not to get into too much trouble, James,' and 'Chip off the old block, aren't you?', even though I _haven't done a thing._ And Fred wants me to be a 'prankster' with him, bothered me about it the entire year- honestly, what's so fascinating about making a few people's heads blue, I can't understand."

Albus nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess I can see that."

"Dad and Mum are bad too; y'know that Dad gave me the Marauder's Map at the start of the year, right?" James waited for Albus to nod before continuing, "Well, even though he told me not to use it for anything bad when he gave it to me, when I came back today, he asked me why I didn't use it to get up to any hijinks with Fred! And Mum, you heard her today, right? Talking about how Fred and I were a wonderful new generation of pranksters, but to not get into too much trouble from now on."

"Well…" Albus said hesitantly. "Maybe if you told Mum and Dad that… and I mean, it's not like the whole school-"

"-It is," James cut in. "Everyone in that school looks at me and sees _James Potter, prankster extraordinaire._ I tried talking with a couple people in Gryffindor I thought I was friends with, but when I even started to suggest that I wasn't like my image, they stared at me like I was an alien from outer space."

"But didn't you get into a lot of trouble this year?" Albus asked curiously. "I remember Mum complaining about it."

"I got into a few detentions because I was late for morning classes too much- you know how I am with waking up in the morning- and a couple because Fred did something _and the teachers assumed I was involved._ " James gritted his teeth. "Just because he wants to make his father proud by being an infamous prankster- and his pranks are pretty lame, anyways, since he's just in first year and we barely know anything- doesn't mean he has to drag me into it."

James sighed yet again. "Sorry for ranting at you, I just was looking forwards to letting it all out."

His eyes widening suddenly, he grabbed Albus by the shoulders. "You don't… you aren't disappointed I'm not like that, are you?"

"Of course not," Albus said simply, smiling. James drew back, letting out a soft breath of relief. "But I still think that Mum and Dad would understand-"

James shook his head firmly. "No. They want me to be their image of a perfect unruly Gryffindor, and I don't want them to look at me in disappointment. Just- I wanted to warn you. That that's the way things are probably going to be for you too… if you get into Gryffindor."

"Are you saying that I shouldn't be in Gryffindor?" Albus asked.

"I'd love to have my snot-nosed little brother be in Gryffindor to tease," James said with a mocking grin. "But you've never seemed very Gryffindor to me, and if you're in, say, Ravenclaw, people's automatic image of you will change. And that's good."

"Maybe I'll go for Slytherin then," Albus suggested teasingly.

"That's going too far the other direction," James insisted, taking Albus' joking suggestion seriously. "You don't know what it's like for Slytherins in Hogwarts. When I'm a prefect, I'll fix things. Sure, there're a couple older kids that seem pretty Dark in Slytherin, I guess, but they don't _enter_ there like that, I'm sure! There's even some Muggleborn Slytherins now, so they can't be as hung up about Pureblood Supremacy as everyone says they are."

"Dad always said stuff like that too, but Mum and Uncle Ron always-"

"Mum and Uncle Ron are wrong," James declared firmly. "Once you get to Hogwarts, you'll see too."

Albus nodded solemnly. After sitting in silence for a moment, James switched the topic to something lighter.

James' talk made him realize something. Fame was alluring, but he didn't want fame from things he didn't do. And if he was famous because of something his Dad did- which he still didn't know what, annoyingly- that was just no fun.

* * *

When Albus Severus Potter was ten, he decided that he didn't want to go to Hogwarts.

Or rather, he didn't want to go to Hogwarts as _himself._ Yet another year had passed, and James had been full with more stories of unfairness and mistaken assumptions. Albus didn't want to be judged before people even knew him- so the logical answer was to be someone that people wouldn't make automatic judgements about.

Albus told James his idea. James supported it, as Albus had hoped he would, and insisted that Albus had to try to get Dad to help him out with it.

Harry was hesitant at first, but he had promised to talk to the Headmistress about it. After a few weeks of chewing his fingernails in anticipation, Harry got back to him on the topic. He said that the Headmistress had understood how Albus wanted to get away from the fame, and had agreed to allow him to enter Hogwarts under a pseudonym. Harry told him that he supported the idea too, as he had wanted to get away from _his_ fame as a child. But he also warned Albus that he would have to deal with it eventually, as he would have to take his OWLs and NEWTs as himself, at the very least.

Ginny wasn't as accepting of the idea, thinking that it was silly to go to such lengths. Harry managed to talk her over eventually, however.

Harry even paid for an anklet- less conspicuous than a bracelet, he had said- inscribed with runes that would do the same thing as a glamour, without the danger of unexpectedly disappearing.

And so, when Albus Severus Potter was eleven, he went to Hogwarts for the first time.

His hair was faded to a dirty blond and his nose was lengthened and flattened. While his eyes were still green, they were no longer as striking- they were closer to hazel if anything.

And his name was Alfred Stevens.

* * *

A/N: Hope this made for a decent prologue! Leave a comment if you enjoyed. :)


	2. A Lukewarm Welcome

A/N: I went and looked up what Ollivander says about certain wand woods and cores on Pottermore when selecting a wand type for Al; the descriptions might help you see what I have planned for the kid. Vaguely.

* * *

Chapter 2: A Lukewarm Welcome

* * *

It was finally the first day of the new school year. Both Albus and James had gone to get their supplies a few days back. Getting his wand was the most exciting part; it was now safely packed into a deep pocket in his brand new robes. Eleven inches, aspen with a dragon heartstring core. Excellent for dueling and charmwork, Mr. Ollivander had said.

His dad had also gotten him a pet; he had really wanted a fierce white ferret he had spotted in the store, but Harry had reminded him that he could only bring a cat, an owl, or a toad. Albus had settled on a female grey tabby cat; he had told Harry that he had picked her because of her fighting spirit, but her cuteness did play a (very very) small part in his decision. Albus had been stumped on her name until his father had suggested that he look in his new books for an appropriate name.

Eventually, he had decided on Antares, after a star in his Astrology textbook.

Albus said his goodbyes to his Mum and Lily at home, being reminded all the while that he could back out whenever he wanted. James, who was still annoyed that Albus refused to tell him his fake name, stuck out his tongue and informed Albus that he'd have him figured out within a week, _at most_.

Albus smirked combatively and dared him to try.

After awkwardly dealing with their tearful goodbyes- and holding back a few tears himself, if he was being honest- Harry side-along apparated Albus to King's Cross, once both of them had disguised themselves appropriately. They arrived in what appeared to be a somewhat grungy bathroom. Albus would later learn that the place had a strong Muggle Repellent charm cast upon it so wizards could apparate into the station without breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

Harry took out Albus's shrunken luggage from his pocket and un-shrunk it with a tap of his wand. The two of them headed out of the bathroom and found a cart to move his luggage. Albus put Antares' cage on the very top, so she wouldn't feel squished. Her cage had been the only thing that they hadn't shrunk, as shrinking animals wasn't the best idea.

"Send as many letters as you want to, alright?" Harry said reassuringly as they walked towards the entrance to Platform 9¾ . "You can borrow the school owls whenever you'd like."

"I know, I know." Albus nodded. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Um, Dad?"

"Yes, Al?"

"What if, um." Albus fidgeted. "What if I'm in Slytherin? Will you and Mum be angry?"

"I won't be angry just because you were sorted into a house that was the best for you," Harry said firmly, stopping to crouch down and look at Albus in the eyes. "And if your mother is unhappy, I'll talk her over, alright? There's nothing wrong with Sly-"

"- I know!" Albus blurted out. "James has told me that enough. It's just, I don't want everyone to hate me because I end up there."

"No one is going to hate you bec-" Harry cut himself off, paused, then rephrased his words. "No one in our family is going to hate you just because you're Slytherin. I was nearly in Slytherin myself, did you know that?"

"Really?"

"Really." Harry smiled and patted Albus' shoulder. "Anyways, you're getting ahead of yourself. I could see you in any house, really. And I'm sure you'll do wonderfully in whichever house you end up in."

Albus nodded doubtfully.

"You'd better get a move on. Don't want to be late for the train." Harry playfully gave Albus a light push forwards.

Albus nodded again, this time more confidently. He could do this. He would do well in Hogwarts, and he would make his parents proud.

He would make his own name.

* * *

James glanced out the window as the train began to race forwards, scenery blurring as they picked up speed. He briefly fantasized about punching the prim boy walking in front of him in the face. Merlin's shining shoes, would that be satisfying.

"Jamie, something the matter?"

James gave the boy what he hoped appeared to be a genuine smile. "No, no, of course not, Geoffrey. Just thinking about my little brother. He starts this year, y'know?"

The boy laughed much too loudly. "Going to mess with him, are you? I know how that is. Tell me what you do, I'm sure it'll be hilarious!"

James just gave him a tight nod.

Geoffrey Podmore was a half-blood and a member of a family that had been 'on the side of the Light for as long as anyone can trace back', as he so often liked to say. With muddy brown eyes and short brown hair, his appearance was as plain as could be. But somehow, he still had the 'friendship'- if you could call it that- of most second and third-year non-Slytherins, and James had no doubt that this year's first-years would fall under his thrall as well.

He couldn't stand the git.

Unfortunately, Podmore wanted to be 'friends' with him to use the Potter name, and James didn't have the patience or the temperament to try to build up enough influence to escape Podmore's grasp. He had tried to straight-out cut his ties in first year, and boy, had that been a terrible two weeks until he had caved and started hanging out with Podmore again.

He often thought vindictively that Podmore would've made a good Slytherin.

Still, he did what he could to make things difficult for the wanker when he could.

"We'd better go look for Fred," James said. Fred was alright, when he wasn't trying to drag him into some weirdo scheme or another. Too bad he worshiped the ground Podmore walked on.

Alright, maybe that was going a bit far, but they _were_ good friends.

"He can find us," Podmore replied dismissively. "Let's just sit down."

Podmore opened a door at random. James winced when he saw that its occupants were Slytherins- second-year, by the looks of it.

"Hey, get out," Podmore ordered. The Slytherins looked up at Podmore, incredulously at first, but then with a hint of nervousness.

"Find your own compartment," one of them said sharply. James mentally commended the girl for her courage, even if Slytherins probably wouldn't see the trait as commendable. "We were here first."

Podmore laughed, and James had to hold back another wince at the sound.

"You're really gonna chase out me… and _James Potter_?" Podmore gestured towards him, and James swallowed down the bile coming up his throat at the sight of the Slytherins paling.

He was a _Gryffindor_ , for the love of Merlin; he had to work up the courage to do _something._

"Oh, hey!" James said quickly, glancing down the hallway in an exaggerated gesture. "I think I just saw Fred enter a compartment. Let's go see."

James didn't drag Podmore out of the compartment, but it was a close thing. He needed to buy himself some Chocolate Frogs later to reward himself for his awesome self-control. Thankfully, Podmore followed him without any complaints.

They passed by a lost-looking blond firstie on the way, but James didn't pay him any heed. He was busy trying to think up an excuse for when Fred would inevitably _not_ be in the compartment.

James opened the compartment, hoping that at the very least it wouldn't be more Slytherins. Much to his relief, the occupants were Gryffindors; and amazingly enough, one of them was Fred.

Merlin, he was lucky.

"Hey, Fred!" James said, grinning brightly. "We were looking for you!"

"Should've waited for us before you got on the train," Podmore complained, entering the compartment and sitting down, the other Gryffindors shifting aside to give him space. James slid into an empty space as well before someone else grabbed it.

James sighed. Another year at Hogwarts. Another year trying to help people without pissing off Gryffindors.

(Another year of failure.)

He gritted his teeth. No. Al was here this year. He couldn't let Al down - he wouldn't let himself let Al down. He would do better this year. _He would._

* * *

Albus' eyes widened when he passed James. He almost called out to him but caught himself just in time. He shook his head. He needed to be able to do this by himself, especially now that he couldn't rely on his (very large) number of extended relatives at the school.

He nodded firmly. He would go find some first years, and make friends with them. Everyone made friends with who they sat with on the train, that's what everyone always said. This was important.

Albus had to peek into a few different compartments before he finally found a compartment that seemed to have first-years. There were two- a blonde tallish girl, and a black-haired shorter guy. While they didn't seem the friendliest sort, he wasn't about to judge them by their appearances. Steeling himself, he slid the door open.

"Hi!" Albus said cheerfully. "Could I sit with you? This is the first open compartment I've found."

The girl shrugged.

"If you want to," she said dismissively. Albus decided to take that as a resounding yes and plopped himself down across from her.

"So, what's your names? I'm Alb-Alfred Stevens," Albus introduced himself, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar name. He hoped it hadn't been that noticeable.

"… You're a Mu-Muggleborn?" the boy asked. Albus wondered if he was nervous, stuttering like that.

"...yeah," Albus replied. He wasn't really, of course- his closest Muggle relatives were his great-great grandparents- but it was easiest to pretend he was a Muggleborn. Less chance of being found out; the Wizarding World was pretty small, after all, and a half-blood or pureblood popping out of nowhere would draw attention. Harry had heavily warned him to not seem too familiar with the Wizarding World, though.

"…Darian Rowle," the boy said finally, before looking back out the window.

Letting out an exasperated sigh at Albus' questioning look, the girl finally introduced herself.

"Arqa Travers," she said with a slight sneer. "Don't ask me questions, alright? I don't really feel like answering a bunch of nosy questions from a Mu-Muggleborn right now."

Travers… Rowle… he recognized those names. Albus frowned for a second, before it clicked. Those were Death Eater families. Merlin's beard, he was in a compartment with a bunch of Death Eaters' kids.

No, no, he couldn't think like that. Besides, most Death Eaters were in Azkaban. These kids must be just related to them distantly or something. Besides, you couldn't help your relatives, right?

Still, they hadn't exactly been welcoming to someone they thought was Muggleborn. Maybe he should check to see if they seemed to be blood purists.

"Ouch, that hurts," Albus said lightly. "I wouldn't really ask many questions, I already know a lot from books and stuff. What are you, a blood purist?"

Sometimes, the best way to get information was the direct approach. Albus laughed lightheartedly, but he could feel the atmosphere in the compartment had suddenly become stifling.

Rowle laughed stiffly. "Of course not, what does that and this have to do with anything? Arqa's just feeling a bit irritated today, that's all, _right?_ "

"Right," Travers said through slightly gritted teeth. She gave Albus an insincere smile. "It's just one of those days, you understand, don't you? But I'll answer your questions if you really want me to, uh, Steveston."

"Stevens," Albus corrected, before shaking his head and getting. "Thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll, erm, go find another compartment. The chairs here are a bit- uh, uncomfortable."

Albus fled from the compartment.

Just his luck. First compartment he went to was full of (probable) blood purists. He couldn't do anything right, could he?

He didn't really want to jinx anything further- he had also heard stories that everyone often met their rival on the train too, after all. He would just try to find an empty compartment. That would do.

Unfortunately, Albus found no empty compartments even after walking from one end of the train to the other, and he really wanted to sit down already.

Sighing, he decided to settle for that compartment he had spotted with only one kid in it. Albus just had to not talk to the kid. He was sure everything would be fine. The other kid had seemed pretty engrossed in his book, after all.

Albus slid the door open and poked his head in.

"Hi, um, could I sit here?" Albus asked nervously.

The kid, who had unusual platinum blond hair, glanced up from his book for a moment. He looked surprised. He then shrugged and nodded before returning to his book.

Albus shuffled into the compartment and sat down across from him. He suddenly wished he had thought to bring a book as well, but his were all packed away in his trunk. His eyes landed on the small pile of books next to the boy. He stared at them longingly.

Merlin, he was bored. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the boy looked at him and sighed. He offered Albus one of the books at his side- _Jinxes for the Jinxed_ , the title said.

"If I lend you this," the boy said, his voice quiet but firm. "Will you not try to make conversation?"

"Sure!" Albus said, accepting the book. Some of his earlier cheer returned at the gesture of kindness, even if it was only done because the boy didn't want to deal with him. Besides, he liked books well enough, and this book seemed pretty interesting. He always though jinxes seemed really cool.

The two of them read in silence for the rest of the trip, interrupted only when a lady came by with the sweets trolley. Before he realized it, the train was nearing Hogsmeade Station.

"Um, thanks," Albus said, reluctantly offering the book back to the other boy. He'd really like to finish it, but he couldn't borrow it forever.

Perhaps some of his disappointment showed on his face, because the boy just sighed again.

"I've already finished that book," the boy said, closing his own book and putting it to the side. "If you don't mind borrowing something from a _Malfoy_ , then you're welcome to borrow it for a little while longer."

The boy looked at him combatively, an eyebrow raised.

Albus blinked. Malfoy, that sounded familiar. He was fairly certain it was a Death Eater family, judging from how the boy seemed to expect him to go running out screaming from the compartment.

Still, a Muggleborn wouldn't know that, and this Malfoy seemed _somewhat_ more amiable than the other two.

"Alright," Albus replied with a grin, putting the book into one of his robe pockets. "Is that your name? Malfoy? It's nice to meet you."

The boy looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared. "Oh, you must be a Muggleborn. That explains things."

"Yeah. Al-l-lfred Stevens." Albus coughed self-consciously. Maybe he should've practiced introducing himself beforehand. He stuck out a hand for the other boy to shake. "Everyone calls me, uh, Al- Fre-, erm…"

Too late, Albus realized he probably shouldn't go around telling people to call him Al.

"Alfreh?" the boy repeated, an air of incredulity around him. He let out a snicker. "Alfreh... what sort of nickname is that?"

Albus flushed, retracting his hand.

"No, no, trust me, I'm not one to talk." the boy assured him, a smile on his face. He seemed awfully receptive to conversation considering that he'd bribed Albus to stay quiet for most of the trip. "My name's Scorpius Malfoy."

Scorpius stuck out his own hand towards Albus.

"Nice to- nice to meet you?" Scorpius said, his voice sounding hesitant. Maybe that was why he had shied away from conversation at first? He had been afraid of being rejected?

Albus mentally shrugged. It didn't matter now- this meant he had made a friend on the train! He hadn't messed up after all!

He grasped Scorpius' hand firmly with two hands and shook it vigorously. Scorpius looked rather surprised at his enthusiasm.

"Right back at you," Albus replied, grinning.

* * *

Once the train had arrived at Hogsmeade Station, he, along with the rest of the first years, piled onto the small boats and sailed towards the castle. He was in a boat with Scorpius and two others. Maybe it was Scorpius' presence, but the others didn't really seem talkative.

After they had crossed the lake, one Professor Flitwick welcomed all of them to Hogwarts and prattled on about the school and the Sorting. It honestly went through one ear through another. Albus was feeling sicker by the second at the idea of being Sorted.

Now, he was standing with a crowd of first years in the Great Hall, gawking at the room along with the rest of them. Albus may have had heard stories of the place, but it was different seeing it in person. Now that he was finally here, he was starting to get nervous. Maybe he should've just gone as himself after all- at least then he could've stood with Rose and had help from James later. Then again, Rose looked even more stressed than him from what he could see, so she probably wouldn't have helped much.

Albus didn't have a clue how the Sorting would happen. James hinted at having to do a difficult magical test of some sort, but he knew that he couldn't trust James about things like this. It probably had to do with the stool in front of the professors' table, he bet. Did they have to sit on the stool one by one and answer questions from the professors' table, in front of the entire school? Merlin, he hoped not.

Professor Flitwick placed a tattered old hat on top of the stool. Albus blinked. A hat? Would they have to wear it? He hoped he wouldn't get lice.

A second later, the hat began to sing, of all things. The first years stood in silence- from shock, or disbelief, he didn't know- waiting for the so-called Sorting Hat to finish its song about the merits of each House.

"I'll now call each of you up in alphabetical order. You'll have to sit down and put on the Sorting Hat to be sorted," Flitwick explained, glancing at a parchment in his hand. "Ackerman, Grace!"

Oh, what if the Sorting Hat could tell he wasn't who he said he was and refused to sort him because of that?

No, he was being stupid. The Headmistress wouldn't have allowed this if she had thought something might've gone wrong. He needed to calm down and think about things logically.

Albus took a deep breath and watched as all of the first years before him were sorted.

After sitting under the hat for about half a minute, Scorpius went to Gryffindor, of all places. Albus felt terrible on his behalf at the lack of applause.

Darian Rowle, who he recognized from the train, went into Ravenclaw; not Slytherin, surprisingly.

Finally, it was his turn.

"Stevens, Alfred!"

Albus walked up to the stool with stiff movements and clenched fists. Seconds after he sat himself down, he felt Flitwick place the Sorting Hat on his head.

' _You have a thirst for knowledge and an ambition to do well - but a different ambition than most Ravenclaws, I sense._ _'_

Wait, the Sorting Hat talked?

 _'Yes, I believe you'd do well in -'_

Wait, was the Sorting Hat trying to put him in-

"SLYTHERIN!"

Great. Albus felt sick at the idea of what his mother and Uncle Ron would say. The Sorting Hat had barely hesitated - he had been under the hat for probably ten seconds. Then again, at least Uncle Ron wouldn't have to know, he supposed. There was no way Harry would agree to keep such a secret from Ginny, though.

The students at the Slytherin table- his new housemates, Albus supposed- clapped politely. The rest of the Houses ignored him. He couldn't hold back the sense of relief he felt. If he had come up here as Albus Potter, Albus had no doubt that he would've gotten just as chilly a welcome as Scorpius. As it was, the worst that would happen was discrimination based on his blood status.

Though, that was pretty bad in itself. At least he could weed out the people he wouldn't want to hang out with.

Albus hopped off the stool and shuffled over to the Slytherin table. He had only been half-paying attention to the Sorting as a whole, so he wasn't entirely certain who his fellow first-year Slytherins were. Luckily, he could at the very least spot them out from the crowd.

He sat down next to a small light-haired boy who seemed to be even more panicked than he was. The boy's head was clenched in his hands so tightly his knuckles were white.

"…Hi?" Albus tried, tapping the boy on his shoulder. There was no response.

"Don't bother with him," said an older girl sitting across and to the left from Albus. She shot a sardonic smile at Albus. "Xia Mulciber. I'm a prefect."

"What's wrong with him?" Albus asked.

"Panic attack over the fact that he's in Slytherin, no doubt," Mulciber replied in a dismissive tone. "There's always a couple like that most years. He'll get over it."

"You don't _understand_ ," the boy said, his voice strangled. He finally pulled his hands away from his head and looked up. "I'm a _Vance_. My aunt was murdered by Death Eaters. I _can't_ be a Slytherin, I'll be disowned! Maybe people from Death Eater families like _you_ don-"

Albus flinched. His words hit a chord.

No, Harry would support him.

"-I'm going to stop you there, Vance," Mulciber said coldly. Her gaze was freezing. "I'll tell you this now, you _don't_ bring up people's families in Slytherin, not anymore. We get enough crap from the rest of the school to get worked up over who was Light and who was Dark, who's Muggleborn and who's pureblood. You got sorted here, deal with it. You're stuck."

Albus took his attention away from the argument for a moment to watch Rose's sorting. She ended up in Ravenclaw- he supposed that made sense, considering how smart Uncle Ron always said she was. She hadn't really seemed the Ravenclaw type to him, though, but Albus guessed the Sorting Hat knew best.

He turned his attention back to the argument.

"I'm _not_ a Slytherin!" Vance hissed, unperturbed by Mulciber's glare. "I'm not evil, and I'm not a blood purist!"

"Well, you sorta are now," softly interrupted a pale-faced, black-haired boy sitting across from Vance. He was a first year as well, if Albus remembered correctly.

"Evil and a blood purist?" Vance repeated, looking horrified.

"No!" the pale-faced boy said, shaking his head firmly. "I meant that you're a Slytherin."

"Exactly." Mulciber nodded, shooting the boy an approving look. "And besides, nowadays, you're only in Slytherin if you're _very_ Slytherin-like or you're too slow to voice your objections to the Sorting Hat. Most people don't want to be in Slytherin, after all. I'm betting on the latter for you, Vance."

"Yeah, he does seem a bit slow," snickered a tall boy sitting next to Albus.

Vance looked offended, but Albus cut in before he could say anything more.

"I'm a Muggleborn, y'know." Albus was going to milk his fake blood status for what it was worth. Especially if he was going to make the effort to act like he didn't know much about the magical world. "If Slytherins were all blood purists and evil, surely I wouldn't be here?"

Yes, he wasn't a blood purist, and he wasn't evil - and both his father and James had said that Slytherin wasn't all bad. Surely being Slytherin wouldn't be the end of the world.

(Maybe if he said it enough, he'd start to feel that it was true.)

"And there are Muggleborns in other years, too," Mulciber added. "Not to mention, half-bloods are more common than purebloods in Slytherin now."

"Half-bloods are more common everywhere," Vance muttered contrarily. Still, he seemed somewhat placated.

The pale-faced boy from earlier opened his mouth to say something, but was drowned out by Flitwick loudly declaring the Sorting to be over.

The headmistress, Mary MacDonald, if Albus remembered correctly, stood up from her seat and cleared her throat. The Hall grew silent, waiting for her to start speaking. Albus had heard tales of her excessive strictness. It was "a poor, but understandable attempt to live up to the legacies of her predecessors", he recalled his father saying. She didn't seem particularly strict, however, with her loosened black hair and her slightly wrinkled robes. Perhaps it was a hangover from when she was just a DADA professor.

"I'll be brief," the headmistress said, gazing down at the students with an unreadable expression. "It is still forbidden for students to enter the Forbidden Forest. Cheating on assignments and exams is also forbidden. And being in the corridors after curfew is most certainly forbidden. These are only three of many rules you must follow while attending this institution - your prefects will inform you of the others after dinner. First years will be given some leeway during the first week of school, but after that week, they will face the same consequences as everyone else. Break the rules and face detention, losing points, and in severe cases, explusion. On that note, I'll let you all go enjoy the Feast."

If that was supposed to be brief, Albus would hate to hear a long speech from her.

As soon as the headmistress sat back down, food of all kinds appeared on the table. Vance, who had been resting his head, yelped and flinched backwards as a plate full of sausages appeared inches from his nose.

Albus helped himself to a plateful of spaghetti and a few pieces of garlic bread.

"So-" Albus swallowed a mouthful of food before looking around at the rest of the Slytherin first years. There seemed to be six, including him. "- shall we introduce ourselves? We'll probably be spending a lot of time together."

"Chris Lange," said the pale-faced boy from earlier. "I'm a half-blood, and-"

"-why do you have to mention your blood status?" Vance shot, crossing his arms. He glared at Chris ill-temperedly. "Do yo-"

"- Merlin, you're sensitive," groaned a dark-skinned girl. "I'm already looking forwards to spending seven years of classes with you. We just won't mention our blood status then, happy now? My name's Melanie Dolohov, real pleasure to meet you."

Vance shut his mouth, still looking disgruntled. One by one, the rest of the first years, including himself, introduced themselves. As well as Chris, Melanie, and Vance (whose first name was apparently Timothy), the tall boy from earlier was called Quinn Hopkirk, and the one other girl was a Muggleborn named Emily Wilbur.

There didn't seem to be many Slytherins compared to the other houses. Albus _really_ hoped that none of them were evil or blood purists, because finding a good friend among the small group would be hard enough as it was.

Though, he didn't need to keep to Slytherin to find friends. He had made friends with Scorpius on the train, hadn't he?

They engaged in casual conversation for the rest of the feast, even though Vance still seemed somewhat wary of talking with the 'evil Slytherins'. Albus was fairly certain that none of them were blood purists, thankfully- maybe all the blood purists went to different Houses now? The two purebloods from the train had both gone to Ravenclaw, after all. Albus bet that if someone was a blood purist and wanted to keep it quiet, the last place they'd want to be was Slytherin.

In any case, most of his housemates in his year seemed decent enough, aside from Vance, who was a bit of a ponce. Once everyone in the Hall had eaten their fill, Headmistress MacDonald dismissed everyone. Mulciber, the prefect from earlier, told everyone to follow her to the Slytherin dormitories, which turned out to be in the dungeons. The password had been 'Schadenfreude', which Albus could barely pronounce, let alone spell. Was that the point? Using a strangely spelt word to prevent people from writing down the password and losing it?

He was probably looking too much in it. A more likely scenario was that the older students just wanted to harass the younger ones for a couple weeks until the password was changed.

His luggage had been placed on one of the beds in the dormitories. That being said, there were so few male first-years that each of them could have a bed and a half to themselves. Albus suspected the girls could probably each have a room to themselves.

His first action once reaching his bed was to let Antares- who was mewling despondently at him at this point- free. He then took out her feeding bowl and filled it with some cat food he had brought with him. His father had said that the house elves gave food to students' pets as long as there was a bowl, so he hadn't brought much with him.

"You have a cat?" Chris noted curiously. "I didn't bring a pet, parents said I wouldn't be able to take care of one. What's his name?"

"Antares," Albus replied, petting Antares on the head. "Got it from our Astrology textbook. And it's a she, not a he."

"I don't like cats," Vance grumbled.

"You don't seem to like anything, Vance," Quinn shot back, rolling his eyes. "Consider yourself lucky my parents don't like cats, or I wouldn't have bought an owl."

"I like plenty of things," Vance muttered. "Just not in Slytherin."

"C-can I… um," Chris started hesitantly, staring at Antares. "That is, uh..."

Albus took pity on his fellow first year. "You want to pet her? Be careful though, she's fierce."

Quinn let out a chuckle, which turned into a badly disguised cough when Albus turned to glare at him. Antares _was_ fierce! Even if she hadn't really done much to show how fierce she was yet. Even if she was pretty adorable. No wait, he meant admirable. Antares was a brave warrior, not a cuddly kitten. Okay, she was a kitten, bu-

"Well, I'm going to sleep," Vance declared, cutting into his thoughts. Much to Albus' displeasure, he was sleeping in the bed across from him. "Try not to make too much noise."

"Did you hear that, guys?" Quinn said brightly. "He said that we should make as much noise as possible."

"Real funny," Vance muttered, sliding into the bottom bunk of his bed.

"I think I'm going to bed too, actually," Chris said regretfully, pulling his hand back from Antares' fur and standing up.

"G'night," Albus said.

To be completely honest, Albus was getting pretty tired as well. He quickly cleaned himself up and changed into his pajamas.

As he fell asleep, he carefully avoided thinking about telling his family which house he had been Sorted into.

* * *

James was irritated.

He really didn't have much of a clue who Albus was. He knew he could rule out all of the kids with names he recognized, but there were still a fair number of Muggleborns and half-bloods with Muggle names. When he had declared to Albus that he would figure him out within the week, he hadn't quite remembered that he barely ever had any reason to interact with the first years, especially from the other Houses. The Sorting had been his only real chance.

James had talked with the Gryffindor first years, briefly, but none of them had struck him as Albus-like, and he hadn't really expected Albus to be in Gryffindor anyways. He would have to find a way to talk with the Ravenclaw and Slytherin first years, somehow. Maybe even the Hufflepuff first years. All without letting it slip that Al was at the school.

He had been interrogated enough during the Welcoming Feast about where his brother was. If he hadn't let slip the fact that he expected his brother to be at Hogwarts this year to that git Podmore, he may have been able to talk his way out of the situation better, but as it was…

Somehow, he had managed to placate everyone by claiming he hadn't a clue what was going on, and that he would send an owl to his father as soon as possible. Merlin, what was he supposed to say? It was all well and good for Al to want to escape the fame, but he _had it_ , and that meant that people would expect him to be at Hogwarts. Both Rose and Victoire had come bothering him about it too.

At this rate, people would say Albus was a Squib, and that made him feel indignant on Albus' behalf. James was sure that Al would blow everyone in his year out of the water- he sure didn't deserve to be called a Squib. He was _his_ little brother, after all.

In the end, he had sent a letter to his parents on the subject, so James supposed that he would have to wait for their reply. James had sent an owl to Al too, but it seemed to go to same direction as the owl to his parents - maybe his father had rerouted Al's letters to prevent his identity from being blown to pieces because of a letter.

James sighed. He would deal with all of this tomorrow. Right now, he was tired, and he needed to sleep. He would need every drop of sleep he could get; James bet that Fred had some prank or other planned for the first week of school. Maybe this time he'd be able to talk Fred out of it.

* * *

Albus woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of crying.

It was coming from across from him- so, Vance, then. He probably wouldn't appreciate Albus trying to help in any way. It would be too embarrassing.

Still, he felt a bit bad for his fellow first-year. Vance had mentioned that he could be disowned. While he could've just been exaggerating, James had told him about one second-year student from a Light family who _had_ been disowned just for landing in Slytherin. It was perfectly possible that the whole situation was pretty frightening for Vance.

That being said, Vance had been kinda annoying.

Sighing softly, Albus decided to at least try to be nice to his housemate if Vance did end up having trouble with his family. He barely knew the guy, after all; it was perfectly possible that Vance was a decent guy when not dealing with the stress of being put in Slytherin.

Turning over in his bed, Albus tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Ah James, you need to improve your detective skills.


	3. A Tale of Prejudices

A/N: Other people spend their birthdays going out and doing things - I spent mine writing fanfiction. Here's the result. :)

* * *

Chapter 3: A Tale of Prejudices

* * *

Albus was practically bouncing off the walls all the way down to the Great Hall. It was the first day of classes- first day of _magic._ Maybe Slytherins were supposed to be more "composed" and "calm", but Albus couldn't care one whit about that. He was Alfred Stevens to be himself, and he swore to be himself no matter what House he was in. Besides, being excited about magic helped his cover, right?

He had woken up in the morning at around the same time as everyone else, save Vance. Vance had already been gone by the time Albus opened his eyes. Early risers were weird. The rest of the first-year Slytherins had ended up heading down together.

Albus burst into the Great Hall and nearly skipped to the Slytherin table, much to Quinn's chagrin.

"Do- do you have to be so… _loud_?" Quinn hissed at Albus once they had settled themselves down.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Albus lied. He could guess exactly what Quinn meant. "I've barely said anything all morning, really. Morning, Vance."

Vance gave an irritated grunt in response. He didn't seem too happy that Albus had made a beeline towards him. He would get over it, Albus was sure.

"That's not what I meant," Quinn shot back, frustrated. "Your cheerfulness is embarrassing. Everyone was staring."

"…I don't think _anybody_ was staring," Chris mumbled, shutting up as Quinn shot him a glare.

Albus helped himself to some scones and fruit- not as good as home, but it would do- before replying.

"It's a… defense mechanism…?" Albus suggested, sounding more hesitant than he had wanted. "Yeah, exactly, I'm actually super nervous but I'm making up for it by acting cheerful. Cut me some slack."

"Whatever." Quinn rolled his eyes before proceeding to ignore Albus as best he could.

Well, personally Albus thought it was weirder to not be excited, but gee, what did he know.

Just as Albus was about to return to his breakfast, he spotted a small blond figure enter the Hall from the corner of his eye. It was Scorpius. Grinning, Albus hopped up from the table and walked towards him.

Albus opened his mouth to call out to him.

"Hey, Scor-"

"- Who's this?"

Someone grabbed his left arm with an uncomfortably strong grip. Albus looked behind him, glaring up at his assailant. It was a brunet Gryffindor, third or fourth-year at most. Standing beside him was another unknown Gryffindor and… _Fred?_

"I think the ittie-bittie snake should go back to his den, hm?" the brunet grinned. Albus instinctively looked towards Fred for help, but Fred was avoiding his gaze. Fred was refusing to help.

Albus felt disconcerted.

"I was just-" Albus began. He tried to slip out of his assailant's grip, to no avail.

"Talking to Malfoy?" the Gryffindor said mockingly. "I guess he _is_ one of yours. Wonder how he managed to get in here- did he bribe the Hat? That's all his family is good for, after all."

"That's not- well, I mean- you can't bribe the Sorting Hat," Albus said lamely.

"How would you know?" his assailant finally let go of his arm, only to give Albus a strong push towards the Slytherin table. "Get lost and we won't do anything more, _this time._ "

Gritting his teeth, Albus fought the urge to turn right around and march back. Thankfully, he had enough of a sense of self-preservation to stop himself. Not to mention, he didn't want to get into trouble on his first day.

He would have to talk to Scorpius later about the book he had lent Albus.

"Smart, real smart, Stevens," Mulciber drawled, walking up to Albus as he was sitting himself back down. It took Albus a moment to realize that she was talking to him. "As a prefect, I guess I have the responsibility to inform all the rest of you stupid first-years to not try a stunt like that. I don't know how you know Malfoy, but you probably just made a bad situation worse for him."

"What do you-"

"I'm gonna say this in small words so you can understand," she said, vaguely exasperated. "For Gryffindor, Slytherin equals bad, and Malfoy equals bad. Therefore, Slytherin plus Malfoy equals double bad. Bad things need to be… taken care of. You get my gist? Great. I'm giving you leeway because it's your first day and I'm nice, but other people won't be so lenient."

" _Taken care of?_ " Albus repeated incredulously. "How-"

"-I've wasted enough time on first-years and Flitwick is coming around with the schedules. Toodles."

Mulciber strode back to the other fifth-years. Albus turned to his fellow first-years, hoping they'd have an answer.

"What'd she mean by _taken care of_?" Albus demanded.

"Malfoy's probably just gonna be pushed around a bit," Melanie said, popping a grape into her mouth. "It would be too difficult to cover up a death, even Malfoy's."

Merlin, James had said that things were bad for Slytherins, but…

Albus was beginning to wish he had been able to convince the Sorting Hat to put him somewhere else. Or had been able to talk to the Sorting Hat at all, really.

"But he's not even a Slytherin," Albus objected weakly.

"Sins of the father," Melanie replied, her voice sounding a bit tight. "Ironically, your Muggleborn status is one thing you have over the rest of us. At least, as far as the rest of Hogwarts is concerned. Along with Emily, of course."

She nodded at the other first-year Slytherin girl.

"I thought we weren't going to talk blood status," Vance cut in suddenly, a scowl on his face.

Melanie rolled her eyes. "Sod off, Vance, I'm saying something positive."

"Your whole holier than thou attitude is getting real old, real fast, y'know," Quinn said, irritated. "You're a _pureblood,_ in case you forgot- the rest of us, except for Dolohov I guess, are all half-bloods or Muggleborn."

"Actually, I'm technically half-blood too," Melanie added in helpfully. "My grandfather on my mother's side was Muggleborn. A lot of families with Death Eater relatives tried to get good press after the war by marrying half-bloods."

Vance turned red. "Shut up! All of you, shut up!"

He stormed out of the Hall, the rest of the first-years watching him go.

"Um… do you think he remembers that he doesn't have his schedule yet?" Chris asked hesitantly.

"Not my problem," said Albus. He had decided to be nice to Vance, but that was only if Albus saw him in trouble with his family. Vance had really brought this one on himself, after all. "He'll figure out it soon enough."

* * *

Albus had initially been pleased to see that he had Potions first thing with Gryffindor. But then, he remembered Mulciber's words. If he wanted to talk with Scorpius, he'd be better off trying to find him when he wasn't around his Gryffindor classmates.

The number of Gryffindors outnumbered the Slytherins almost two to one. Albus quickly slid into a seat next to Chris, not wanting to be forced to pair with Vance once he returned. Quinn gave the two of them an irritable look as he sat down in a seat behind them. Albus was beginning to think that all Quinn did was act irritated.

The potions professor, whose name was Denise Boot, was a middle-aged witch with an unreadable expression. Albus had worried that Slytherins faced discrimination from the professors, but Professor Boot had been completely professional during the entire lesson. She hadn't even away points from Slytherin when Vance arrived late, saying that she understood that things were hectic on the first day.

It had been a pretty boring lesson, though- all about safety, for the most part. Albus hoped to do some actual magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws. James had said that the DADA professor was alright, but he had heard that Headmistress MacDonald had been a 'way cooler prof'. Albus wondered what had happened to the Headmistress' coolness when she had become, well, the Headmistress.

He wanted to get a chance to talk to Rose beforehand, though- hopefully in a way that wouldn't connect him with Albus Severus Potter. Albus was sure that Rose wouldn't get into trouble for consorting with a Slytherin, not like Scorpius might have- Rose was a _Weasley,_ after all.

Albus had an idea of sorts. A _cunning_ idea, he was sure.

Several long benches spanned the length of the DADA classroom, with one large desk at the front. The Defense professor- his name was Gavin Slinkhard, if Albus remembered correctly- sat on a simple chair behind the desk, his legs propped up.

More importantly, Albus spotted Rose sitting on the edge of a bench in the middle of the room- quite far away from the Professor for a Ravenclaw. Still, that worked out fine for Albus; there was plenty of room for him to sit next to her, especially as the rest of the Slytherins filed in at the back of the room.

Albus initially sat on the other edge of bench, before slowly sliding towards Rose, one push at a time.

"What are you doing?"

Albus froze mid-slide.

"Um…"

Maybe gradually getting close to someone didn't work so well as a friendship technique when applied to physical proximity as opposed to an emotional connection. Though, Albus was sure that he would've seemed even more suspicious if he had just plopped himself down next to her.

"What do you want, an autograph from my uncle?" Rose said, tapping her foot impatiently. Albus had known her for long enough to know that he should back off, now.

"No, I-" Albus held up his hands in a defensive manner, prepared to explain himself - and by that he meant lie through his teeth. But Professor Slinkhard interrupted him, calling the class to attention.

Albus knew better than to bother a Ravenclaw during a professor's lesson, if all the stories he had heard about Ravenclaws were true. Unfortunately, as soon as the class was dismissed, Rose quickly disappeared.

He needed to work on his cunning.

* * *

Scorpius was having an _absolutely wonderful_ time at Hogwarts, really. Being tripped and laughed at by half the school; Scorpius couldn't have asked for anything more.

What a laugh.

He had wanted to get into Gryffindor, and lo and behold, his wish had been granted. Scorpius understood the saying "be careful what you wish for" a bit better now.

Still, Scorpius knew he had to bear with it. Being Sorted into Gryffindor would go a long way to show he wasn't a Dark Wizard. Even Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff wouldn't have had the same effect. Well, maybe Hufflepuff would've made everyone think that he was too useless to be evil. Scorpius supposed there were worse things than being considered evil.

He had sent a letter to his parents about his Sorting the day before. He rather hoped that he got a Howler over it. If his "Dark" parents were displeased with him, well, that obviously meant that he wasn't Dark himself, right?

Scorpius was sure that he'd be able to convince his House of his innocence sooner or later. It wasn't like he would be the first child of a Dark family to turn out good; Sirius Black came to mind.

Then again, everyone had been willing to throw him in Azkaban for over a decade, despite being innocent. He probably wasn't the best example of someone who had escaped their family's reputation.

"Hey! Scorpius!"

Scorpius stopped in the hallway, looking around furtively. It was nearing curfew, thankfully, so there wasn't anyone around.

Aside from Stevens, of course, who was running towards him.

"Yes?" Scorpius said politely. His voice came out more quietly than he had wanted. He mentally cursed.

He couldn't believe that the Muggleborn he had tried to befriend on the train had ended up a _Slytherin._ What were the odds? He couldn't be friends with a Slytherin. Things were bad enough as it was. Besides, Muggleborn or not, he was sure that Stevens had some kind of ulterior motive for wanting his friendship.

(Even though he might desperately want the friendship of _anyone_ , at the moment.)

"About that book you lent me…"

Oh, right, he had lent Stevens a book. It wasn't really that interesting, and he had read through it couple times already. Honestly, Stevens could keep the thing.

No, wait, he could use this.

"You can keep it," Scorpius said, waving a hand dismissively. "In return, though, promise t- to stop talking to me."

"I could buy that book myself if I really wanted to," Stevens objected. "That's a stupid deal."

Scorpius supposed that Stevens hadn't gotten into Slytherin for nothing.

"Look, I'll get into trouble if I'm seen with a Slytherin," Scorpius explained. "You don't want to be responsible for my gruesome and bloody death, do you?"

Stevens looked a bit pale. Great, he had hit a nerve.

"Fine," Stevens mumbled reluctantly. "I don't like it, but fine."

Why did Stevens want to be… friends… anyways? He was a Malfoy, hanging out with him would just bring Stevens trouble- even if he was Muggleborn, he could see that much, right? Maybe Stevens was actually a real Slytherin and wanted his help with Dark Arts. Yes, that made sense. He had figured out Stevens' ulterior motive. Well, tough luck, Stevens - he didn't even know any Dark Arts.

Whatever. It didn't matter, not anymore. The problem was solved. Now he just had to figure out how to deal with the ten million other problems in his life.

(Like the fact that he had just purposefully alienated one of the few people willing to talk him.)

"It's nearly curfew, so I'm going to head to the dorms," Scorpius said, turning around. He hadn't taken more than a few steps when Stevens called out to him again.

"Bye!"

Despite himself, Scorpius raised a hand in farewell.

* * *

Albus sighed. That could've gone better.

Still, Albus understood where Scorpius was coming from. He would listen; he wouldn't _talk_ to Scorpius.

To talk- to communicate verbally.

Scorpius hadn't asked him to stop _interacting_ with him, after all. There were plenty of ways to interact without talking.

Grinning mischievously, Albus bounced cheerfully back to his dorms.

* * *

James silently fumed as he sat next to Podmore in the Gryffindor common room, Podmore's lackeys surrounding him.

Geoffrey Podmore was undoubtedly the most disgusting being to ever exist upon the planet Earth.

Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. James could admit that _perhaps_ Voldemort and his Death Eaters could have been slightly more disgusting than Podmore. But just slightly. Very slightly.

"So James, I'm having a spot of trouble with this week's Ancient Runes assignment," Podmore drawled in that slimy voice of his. "Could you help me with it tomorrow?"

"Sure," James replied, trying but failing to completely erase the curtness of his tone. He tried for a smile, which was more successful. He had always been great at fake smiles. "No problem."

"Great!" Podmore said, patting James on the back. He resisted the urge to flinch away. "You're a good mate, James."

"Yeah, that's me," James said neutrally, feeling relieved when Podmore moved to talk to someone else.

James felt someone elbow him in the ribs. He gritted his teeth.

"Yo," Fred hissed. "Yo, James."

Holding back a sigh, James looked towards Fred, who was lounging next to him.

"What?" James asked somewhat antagonistically, already knowing what Fred was going to say.

"So... what do you think about dyeing Professor Boot's hair- wait for it- wa-a-ait for it..."

"No, I'm not interested in dyeing Professor Boot's hair pink, or rainbow, or whatever colour you've thought of this week," James cut in coldly. He stood up, pushing his chair back. "I've got work to do. Talk to you tomorrow, Fred."

Fred looked disgruntled, but that wasn't anything new. James was more than used to that expression by now.

(Seeing Fred like that hurt more than James would ever admit.)

"You're never any fun, James," Fred snapped, slapping the table. "The whole school thinks you're a troublemaker anyways and you're never gonna convince them any different. Just embrace it and stop being such an uptight wanker. You used to be a pal."

James didn't bother to give a response, instead just walking away. Fred's words cut, although he wasn't saying anything James didn't already know. He knew that the hive mentality of the school was ridiculous when it came to rumours, but that didn't mean that he couldn't dream about people finally seeing him for himself.

Halfway up the stairs to the dorm, he paused. James really wasn't in the mood for studying tonight, much less in his room. He'd take a walk, he decided. There was still an hour until curfew- plenty of time to take a well-needed break.

James snuck by Podmore's table of lackeys to escape through the door. He had no wish to be called back to the table. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his robe, he walked aimlessly through the halls, his mind purposefully blank.

He was walking past a portrait of a strangely purple-haired man when he first heard the muffled shouts. Without hesitating, he ran towards the source of the sound.

"Who's there?!" James yelled sharply as he turned the corner. He quickly scanned his eyes over the scene in front of him.

Three Hufflepuff upper-years - fourth or fifth year, by the looks of it - stood in front of a young Slytherin, who was sprawled on the floor with a petrified look on his face. James could infer what had happened from the scene in front of him.

James opened his mouth, more than ready to give them all a talking-to, when he was cut off by a breathless laugh from the Hufflepuff in the middle.

"Oh, thank god, it's just you," he said. "I was worried that it was a professor or something."

"Just... me?" James said carefully, an icy feeling beginning to spread in his chest.

"Yeah, don't worry," the Hufflepuff to the side piped up, flipping her hair. "We know the Vances are a light family, but this one ended up a Slytherin, so he's gonna get disowned anyways. No harm in roughing him up a little to teach him a lesson."

The Slytherin - Vance? - flinched visibly at the Hufflepuff's uncaring words. James felt his temper rise.

"You think that-" James began heatedly, taking a step forwards.

"- Look, just run along now," the Hufflepuff in the middle cut in again. "I don't think – what was his name?"

"Podmore," one of the others interjected.

"- Podmore - " he continued without missing a beat. "- will be happy with you interrupting us. And an ickie third year like you wouldn't want to make Podmore mad, would you?"

James hesitated. That time in first year - the two weeks when he had cut ties with Podmore - it had been hell. Hexes in the common room, jinxes while he slept, destroyed homework, and many, many, detentions thanks to Fred's pranks. He had even swallowed his pride and tried to go talk to Professor Longbottom about it, but he had been chided for trying to get out of "deserved detentions" through family connections. That had stung more than anything else- the knowledge that even the people he had trusted wouldn't believe him thanks to his thrice-damned _grandfather's_ reputation.

He didn't want to have to go through that again.

Unconsciously, he took a step backwards.

The Slytherin's eyes, desperate but still vaguely hopeful, met his.

James froze. Had he really just almost done that? Had he nearly left a defenceless kid to the mercies of a trio of bullies for _his own personal comfort?_

Podmore wasn't disgusting.

He was.

"Screw that," James said finally, frigid as ice. His hand lightly gripped the wand in his pocket. "Back off, you three. Haven't you got anything better to do than to push around someone who can't even fight back? Absolutely disgusting."

"Excuse me?" the middle Hufflepuff said dangerously, taking out his wand. James gripped his own tighter. "I think someone needs a little lesson on _who's_ light and _who's_ dark."

"Well, if you'd like, we can go ask Professor Boot," James suggested mockingly, holding back the urge to just charge at the utter git, the danger be damned. "I'm sure she'd be very interested in what you're doing."

"You'd tattle on us?" the female Hufflepuff demanded incredulously. "You little coward. Some Gryffindor you are."

"I can and I will," James hissed. Some Gryffindor he was? It seemed like he was the only true Gryffindor in Hogwarts, though even he was almost willing to leave the Slytherin to his fate. "Run along now, unless you want to get suspended."

Shooting identical glares of hatred at James, the trio slowly backed off.

"This isn't over," one promised, running a hand threateningly over his wand. "This is definitely not over."

James, miraculously retaining some sense of self-preservation, waited until they were out of earshot before muttering, "I think it is."

He glanced over at the Slytherin, who was picking himself up off the floor. James walked over and helped him up.

"You alright, uh, Vance?" James asked kindly. He swallowed back the bile welling up in his throat. He was an utter fraud, acting like some kind of saviour. He had nearly abandoned this kid. He knew what happened to Slytherin first years who were given a "lesson", and he had _nearly abandoned this kid._

Never again, he swore.

"Thanks," the Slytherin said, subdued. "But I deserved it anyways."

"I'm sorry?" James asked, his voice pitched distinctly higher than normal. "In what way did you deserve that?"

"I got sorted into Slytherin," Vance said, his voice breaking. "Timothy Theopolis Vance, the heir of the family, the one everyone expected to continue our family's legacy of light."

He rubbed at his eyes, tears streaking down his cheeks. Internally panicking on what to do, James settled on patting Vance's back in what he hoped was a comforting way.

"You- you know?" Vance choked out, a sob escaping his lips. "I got a letter today. From my family. I'm disowned. They'll pay for my school fees and house me during the summer since it'll look bad if they throw me out onto the streets, but I'm on my own after seventh year, and I'd _better_ not come home for the hols, they said. Mum, Dad, my little sister Adeline and my auntie Emilie, they all hate me now. All of them."

James stiffened slightly. What if- what if Mum and Dad disowned Albus, if he had gotten into Slytherin? _He_ had been the one to tell Albus to go into Slytherin to break from Dad's legacy. It would be his fault. It would be his fault that his little brother was cast out of the family.

No, no. Mum and Dad wouldn't do that. They knew Al, loved Al. They knew that Albus wasn't evil, that he was just a normal kid.

(But they knew Albus the same way James had thought Uncle Neville had known him.)

Vance sniffed, clenching the fabric of his robes. His tears still hadn't stopped.

"Look," James said awkwardly. "Being disowned- I can't begin to imagine how horrible that is. But-"

James scowled fiercely, anger suddenly pooling up in his stomach. He tightly grasped Vance by the shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"Listen to me," James snapped. "They're wrong."

"But-" Vance started, staring up at James with red eyes.

"I'm gonna tell you a story my Dad always told me and Al and Lily, whenever Uncle Ron said something rude, or whenever Mum made an off-colour statement," James said quietly. He took a short breath. "Once upon a time, there were four friends. They were all in Gryffindor, they were inseparable, and they loved each other deeply as friends do. One was from a very Dark family, one was from a very Light family, one was a werewolf, and the last one was simply quite normal. Now, while they did care for each other, the one from the Light family began to realize that there was a traitor among their group, a traitor that was putting him and his entire family at risk. His first instinct was to suspect the werewolf. His suspicions were wrong, leading to the death of him and his wife. Society as a whole, they suspected the one from the Dark family. Their suspicions were wrong, leading to the unfair imprisonment of a man who was innocent of any crime."

James breathed out, calming himself. Yes, Dad wouldn't abandon Al for being a Slytherin. Never Dad.

"In the end, it was the normal one, the regular old Gryffindor that nobody suspected, that was the true traitor," James continued. "Because when you let unfair assumptions cloud your eyes, you miss what's truly in front of you. In a world where Veritaserum and Pensieves exist, it's so easy to verify the truth. But it's up to us to give people the opportunity to testify, and in order to do that, we need to understand that anyone can be a bad person, no matter if they're Gryffindor, and anyone can be a good person, no matter if they're Slytherin or a 'dark creature'. And if you refuse to see that, than the only bad person here is yourself."

"Bu-but," Vance stammered, appearing to be rather shocked. "You're _James Sirius Potter._ "

"Yes," James said patiently.

"Your father is _Harry Potter_ ," Vance said.

"Yes," James repeated.

"I don't understand," Vance said, a lost look in his eyes. "Why would the champion of the Light say such a thing?"

"Because being Light doesn't mean being Gryffindor," James explained firmly. "And being Dark doesn't mean being Slytherin. I mean, where would that leave the poor Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, anyways? All that matters is what you want to be."

James let go of Vance's shoulders and patted him once on the back. Vance still looked troubled, but at least he had stopped crying. Merlin, he had no clue to do with crying kids.

"It's getting late, we should get back to our dorms," James commented. "You think you'll be alright getting back to the Slytherin common room on your own? Sorry, but I don't know where it is."

Vance nodded shortly.

James smiled slightly. "Just think about what I said, okay? And don't be afraid to come talk to me if you run into any more trouble."

Giving him a small wave, James headed off, heart feeling somewhat lighter.

* * *

Saying that he would "communicate without talking" was all well and good, but Albus didn't want to make things worse for Scorpius by interacting with him around other Gryffindors.

So, he thought about things logically. Scorpius, being harassed by his housemates, would be unlikely to hang out in his room or the Common Room. Albus knew from his investigations that unused classrooms were magically sealed outside of class time, so Scorpius couldn't be there. Now, the Grand Hall was one possibility, but when Albus poked his head in he didn't see Scorpius' distinctively blond head. Besides, given how busy the place was, there was no chance he'd be able to communicate unseen with Scorpius.

That left one place.

The library.

He left Scorpius alone for about a week - enough, Albus figured, for the other Gryffindors to begin to let their guard down around Scorpius. But the moment the week had passed, Albus put his plan into motion. He was pretty confident of his chances when he strode into the library, even when he didn't immediately see any sign of Scorpius. Ignoring the derisive side eye he got from a group of upper year Hufflepuffs as he walked past them- what did they think he was going to do, conduct a blood sacrifice?- Albus ventured through the maze-like shelves, eyes peeled for a bright blond head.

Albus rather liked the library. It was a cozy, with study tables nestled between shelves at the oddest locations. Sometimes, he just had to stare up and gape and the grand stained glass windows shining multicoloured light down onto the floor, books flying to and fro as students called them up from the catalogue. The fact that it was filled with his beloved books was of course a very nice bonus.

He watched, transfixed, as a pair of twin neon blue books flew towards the east end of the library. He could barely believe that _one_ book would have such a garish cover, let alone two!

"What _are_ you doing?"

Reddening, Albus jolted. Perhaps he had been watching the show for a tad too long. He turned around, coughing self-consciously.

"Well, I mean," Albus started, rubbing the back of his head. "It's all rather grand, don't yo-"

Albus blinked, taking in the blond boy in front of him. He chided himself for not immediately recognizing the voice, but in his defence, he had only heard it a few times. He grinned widely.

"Scorpius!" Albus said brightly. "I thought we weren't supposed to be talking!"

Scorpius looked as though he had swallowed a particularly sour lime. He glanced to the side, a slight flush to his face.

"Yes, well," Scorpius mumbled. "You were staring up there for a while. Needed to make sure that you didn't get hit by a Freezing Charm or something. Anyways-"

As Scorpius made to leave, Albus grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!" Albus blurted. He paused, his mind working quickly.

Scorpius had called out to him. So, he couldn't be as invested in the whole "no talking" thing as he claimed. The issue- the issue must be _only_ the harassment he got.

(Or at least, he hoped that was the only issue.)

So then-

"You know, I was all ready to try to communicate with you through notes," Albus said, smiling. "Since y'know, that's not talking."

Scorpius raised a thin eyebrow, but made no move to leave.

"You Slytherins," he said drily.

Albus flinched involuntarily. He still hadn't gotten used to being considered a 'Slytherin'. He quickly covered it up with an awkward laugh.

"Can't argue with that," Albus said, quirking his lips. "But anyways, what I want to say is- we can be friends without hanging out where your classmates can see. Or, we could totally protect you - I can't imagine the professors would be _that_ unwilling to help you if you needed the help. That is, what I want to say is - do you really want to spend the rest of your Hogwarts years hanging out with no one?"

Scorpius looked at Albus with an unreadable look.

"Why?" he asked, finally.

Albus blinked in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why are you so invested in becoming my friend?" Scorpius demanded. Suddenly incensed, he ripped his wrist from Albus' grip. "What do you want? Merlin, what could I possibly give you? I don't know any Dark Arts, you know, so there's no point-"

"- Are you crazy?" Albus cut in, scowling. "I don't want to learn the Dark Arts. What would even be the point?"

Scorpius looked desperately bewildered. His voice broke.

"I just don't understand _why_ ," he said quietly, staring at the ground with a wretched look.

Albus cocked his head to the side. Why? He hadn't really thought of why. At first, it simply was because they were sitting in the same train compartment. After that- perhaps it was a combination of pity and a healthy dose of curiosity.

Who was this Gryffindor that everyone hated on sight?

(Scorpius Malfoy.)

Why did he deserve such vitriol?

(Because his family was Dark.)

Was it really just because of his family?

(Yes.)

But really, in the end, it just boiled down to-

"I just wanted to," Albus explained simply. "You seem nice. Is that such a bad thing?"

Scorpius sputtered. "You- you wanted to?"

"I mean, we talked on the train, right?" Albus grinned. "According to Hogwarts law, that means we must be best friends forever."

"According to Hogwarts-" Scorpius started incredulously before cutting himself off. He pinched his nose, took a deep breath, and then finally, softly, gave a small chuckle. "I think... I think I actually believe you."

Scorpius shook his head, snorting softly.

"You know what? Alright." Scorpius said, biting back a smile.

"Alright?" Albus parroted, holding back a smile as well.

"Let's be friends. I give up on fighting your crazy," Scorpius clarified, holding out his hand. "Shake on it?"

Albus grasped Scorpius' outstretched hand with both of his own, shaking it enthusiastically, just as he had on the train. Scorpius seemed prepared for it this time.

"Shake on it," Albus agreed, smiling as wide as he could. "It'll be great to get to know you, Score."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Score-score?" Albus suggested.

" _No._ "

"'Pious?"

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

"You're no fun." Albus sighed in mock disappointment.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, looking vaguely exasperated.

"Please, just call me Scorpius... Alfreh," Scorpius shot back, finally failing to hold back the smile spreading across his face.

Albus couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.

* * *

The post owl dropped two letters onto Albus' lap when he was minding his own business, munching on some toast on a fine Saturday morning. Glancing down, he could see that they had two simple labels.

 _From Mum,_ said one. _From Dad,_ said the other.

He was a good person, he didn't deserve this. Okay, maybe he should've written to them sooner about his Sorting, but could anyone really blame him? If he were really lucky, then no one had actually told them where he was sorted, and they were just worried when they hadn't gotten any letters from him. If he were really unlucky…

… he didn't want to think about that particular situation.

"Your parents know how to use owl mail?" Emily Wilbur said curiously, peering at the letters from across the table. "My parents find it so strange- _I_ still find it strange, actually! I think it's going to take a while for me to get any letters. E-mail is just so much more convenient, don't you think?"

E-mail, e-mail, sounded familiar- oh yes, now he remembered. Aunt Hermione had gone over it in her Muggle Studies classes she ran for all the Weasley children. It was a form of instantaneous mail, kind of like floo-talking, but in written form.

"Yeah," Albus said awkwardly. "It sucks that technology like the In-internet doesn't work in Hogwarts."

Much to Albus' relief, Emily nodded in firm agreement before returning to her meal.

It seemed as though he hadn't made a mistake. Albus mentally thanked Aunt Hermione for her relentless tutoring that he had hated so much at the time. Albus slid the letters into his pocket and stood from the table. He had lost his appetite, somehow.

"You're done already?" Chris asked, sounding surprised. He glanced up at Albus and frowned, hesitating. "You know, if, um, you want to talk to anyone about anything…"

Albus scrounged up a small smile. He must look pretty horrible if his classmate could tell immediately that something was wrong.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be fine," Albus said. Saying a brief goodbye to the rest of his first-year housemates, he left the Grand Hall and headed towards the Common Room. After fumbling over the password's pronunciation a couple times, he was finally let in. Reluctantly, he slowly walked towards the relative privacy of his dorm room. All too soon, he was in front of the door. Taking a deep breath, he whipped the door open, raced to his bed, and flopped onto it.

Antares jumped onto his bed right after, snuggling herself into his lap. She meowed. Albus smiled weakly down at her. Steadying himself, he took out one of the letters and ripped the envelope open in one quick manoeuver. He carefully unfolded the paper before finally beginning to read.

 _Al,_

 _I heard from your godfather Neville that you were sorted into Slytherin._

Merlin's beard, it seemed as though he had no luck today. Albus almost threw down the letter then and there, but forced himself to continue. It didn't seem so bad so far, after all.

 _I told you before you went on the train that there was nothing wrong with Slytherin, and I stand by my words. I know you're a good kid, Albus. Being sorted into Slytherin won't change that._

 _Just know that this is a lot for your mother to take in. She loves you dearly, we both do, but she grew up with a lot of prejudices (justified or not) that I didn't have, Muggle-raised as I was. She might be angry, but she's only angry because she's angry at herself. She believes she did something wrong in raising you._

 _Your mother is a good person, and I'll convince her that there's nothing wrong with her or you just because of your house, don't worry._

 _Anyways, let's not worry about the depressing things right now! How are things, Al? Have you made any friends yet? I hope you're enjoying your anonymity as best you can._

 _Tell me how the Defense against the Dark Arts professor is, would you? I'm a bit curious. James said that he wasn't that great, but I can't imagine he's_ that _bad! Back when I was a student, the professor changed every year, and most of the time they were really quite terrible at their job. With the exception of Teddy's father, of course._

 _Don't worry if you aren't the best in the school. It's only first year, you should have fun! Do make sure you do all your homework though- you don't want to fail._

 _Best of luck, Al._

 _Dad_

Albus swallowed back a lump in his throat. Mum wasn't happy. Mum was _angry._ His hand snuck to his robe pocket and clenched his mother's letter.

If Dad and Mum had felt the need to send separate letters, then that meant they had decided to send very different things.

And so since Dad's letter had been supportive and nice…

In a fit of panic, Albus pulled out the second letter and ripped it into little pieces. He brushed the pile of messy pieces off of his bed and onto the floor, then kicked the pieces under his bed. Breathing hard, he flopped back onto his bed and squeezed his eyes shut, threading his hand through Antares' fur.

He shouldn't have done that. He _k_ _new_ that he'd have to deal with it eventually.

(But he didn't have to deal with it now.)

* * *

A/N: Poor, poor Albus. At least you've got a friend now.


	4. An Unfair Situation

A/N: Alternate title: In Which James' Life Sucks

* * *

Chapter 4: An Unfair Situation

* * *

James was just trying to get back to his dorm after dinner, but he should have known better. Before he could even get halfway across the Common Room, Podmore spotted him and gestured him over to the room's second-largest table. Fred waved at him eagerly from his seat next to Podmore. Fred never stayed mad for long at James refusing to play along with his pranks, which James appreciated. James just wished he would stop asking in the first place.

Much to Podmore's displeasure, the upper years refused to give up the largest table to him, famous light family or not, and James refused to try to use his Potter influence to make Podmore's life easier. Not that he believed that the upper years would cave to him any more than they had caved to Podmore, but whatever. He took his wins where he could.

"Sorry," James said, pausing. "I'm gonna try to get some studying on my own done today."

"Oh, that's too bad," Podmore said, smiling insincerely. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," James replied curtly, taken off-guard. This was strange. Podmore never let him go so easily.

"I mean, I guess there's a lot more pressure on you now," Podmore continued. "Since y'know, your brother is a Squib and all."

James froze, feeling heat rise in his face. He turned around slowly, digging his nails into his palms in a desperate attempt to hold himself back.

He failed.

" _What did you just say?"_ James hissed, storming up to Podmore and forcing him up by his collar. His lackeys rushed up from their chairs, shouting at James with words he didn't bother to process, but Podmore waved them down. In the corner of his eye, he saw Fred mouthing at him to calm down, a panicked, apologetic expression on his face.

Podmore shoved James away roughly before dusting himself off like the complete _ponce_ he was.

"All I said was the truth," Podmore said in that prissy, _completely intolerable_ way of his. James bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The pain helped stop him from assaulting Podmore again then and there. "If your brother isn't a Squib, why isn't he at Hogwarts?"

His parents hadn't gotten back to him about what he was supposed to say about Al's situation.

He didn't care _one bit_ about what he was supposed to say.

"You know why he isn't here?" James snapped. "Because he's hiding away from _tossers_ like you. Who use their name to get everyone to fall at their feet. Who - "

" – Careful, Jamie," Podmore said icily. "We wouldn't want a repeat of that week in first year, would we? You've been a bit… unruly lately. I think you should calm down - "

James laughed sharply. " – Calm down? I'm not going to calm down."

He took a step closer to Podmore, taking some guilty pleasure in seeing fear flicker in his eyes.

"I saw _Hufflepuffs_ trying to beat up a firstie for the grievous crime of being put in Slytherin," James whispered in barely contained fury. His voice raised. "He's _eleven._ He was bawling his _eyes out._ "

A bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but he really couldn't care less at this point.

"He was a Slytherin, Jamie," Podmore said calmly. "C'mon, mate – we all know how Slytherins are."

"Don't call me Jamie. And _I'm not your mate_." James closed his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose before opening them again. "Sod off, Podmore. You're a bully and an utter prat, and I've never liked you. If I didn't see your face again until the day I died, it would still be too soon."

"Woah, woah." Fred stepped in between the two of them, smiling nervously. "I think everyone's let their tempers get the better of them, yeah? Geoffrey, calling Al a Squib was a bit far, I get why James would get mad. James, you should probably apologize. I know you didn't mean it."

Podmore cocked an eyebrow, an angry glint in his eye. "Well, _Jamie?_ Did you mean it?"

James felt very grateful to Fred at the moment. If he backed off, if he apologized, he knew that Podmore would accept it, because the allure of the Potter name was worth more to him than whatever James said to him. But unfortunately, he would have to break Fred's careful attempt to fix the situation into little pieces. His reputation be damned.

He had stayed silent and dealt with Podmore from the shadows for two years. And he was sick of it. That first year Slytherin almost getting beaten up, having to constantly run countermeasures to try to keep Malfoy from the worst of Podmore and his followers' cruelty, and now this? Calling Albus a _Squib?_

No, it was too much in such quick succession. James wouldn't take it any longer.

It was time for a revolution.

"Oh, I did. I meant every single word," James said quietly, feeling somewhat guilty at Fred's paling face. Fred wasn't a bad guy, not really – he just was a bit blind at times, and in the end, all he wanted was for his friends to get along. The only problem was that one of his friends was a total arse – and the arse sure as hell wasn't James.

James spun around dramatically before striding away. No one stopped him – from their expressions, they were all too shell-shocked to do anything.

"As of today, I'm going against you, Podmore. And you're going down hard," James shot back over his shoulder. He slipped onto the staircase. He needed to get to his dorm to activate his protective charms as soon as possible – his roommates were all known Podmore supporters, with the exception of maybe Fred. This wouldn't go down like first year. He was the damned best of the year in Charms, and soon, everyone would know _exactly_ what that meant. He had spent the better part of last spring perfecting his charms – there was no way _anyone_ could get past them.

Well.

Anyone fourth-year or younger, at least. He didn't have _that_ much confidence in his skills.

James just hoped that the upper years still thought Podmore was an arrogant prick who didn't know his place.

"I'd like to see you try, Potter!" Podmore finally shouted at him after he had only taken a few steps up the staircase. His voice sounded utterly furious. "I'd like to see you goddamn try!"

James paused. He skipped back down the staircase, twirled out of the entranceway and smirked.

Then glibly flipped Podmore off.

James didn't spend much time savouring Podmore's reaction. Instead, he ran up to his dorm, because _that_ may have just perhaps been a step too far.

* * *

Scorpius watched the spectacle with wide eyes and a healthy dose of fascination. From his vantage point in the corner of the room, he couldn't hear much of the fight, but it was clear that the two big fish of lower-year Gryffindor were having a huge fallout.

This could be good. This could also be very, very bad. He wouldn't know until he knew exactly what the two of them were arguing about. Unfortunately, there were very few people in Gryffindor willing to talk to him. After all, if they talked to him, he would infect them with his spooky Dark Arts cooties, obviously.

However, there were a couple Muggleborn first-years who hadn't really gotten the memo yet. And miraculously, one of these first-years was sitting on a chair right next to ground zero, still gawking. It was about time he had some luck.

Scorpius carefully made his way across the room, keeping to the shadows and avoiding the students who had already harassed him. Quietly, he slid into the seat next to the first-year in question, Maddie Wu. From what Scorpius could tell, she seemed like an excessively kind girl, though perhaps not the brightest. It _would_ explain why she would still talk to him.

"…hey, Maddie," Scorpius greeted, mustering up a smile. Maddie whipped her head towards Scorpius so quickly he was vaguely surprised she didn't get whiplash.

"Hi Scorpius!" Maddie said brightly, looking excited. "Oh my god, did you see that? It was so awesome! I can't believe this James Potter guy just declared _war!_ "

"Um, actually, I missed it - " Scorpius started, laughing nervously.

" – Oh, I'll fill you in."

Thank you very much, Maddie. Scorpius knew that he could count on her. Well, to be completely honest, not really, but he had rather _hoped_ that he would be able to count on her, and wasn't that the same thing?

"So basically, it started when the guy with the gelled hair, I don't remember his name, he called James Potter's brother a… squid?" Maddie frowned. "I don't really get the insult, but James got _really_ angry."

"A Squib," Scorpius guessed, rather surprised. Albus Potter was a Squib? It would explain why he wasn't at Hogwarts. "They're the opposite of Muggleborns – they're non-magical people born to magical parents. I can see why Potter would get mad."

"Huh, you learn something new each day," Maddie mumbled, looking thoughtful. "Anyways, they exchanged insults for a bit, James said something about his brother being in hiding or something, and then James called the prissy guy a bully, declared war, and stormed off. It was _so cool_ _._ "

"In… hiding," Scorpius repeated doubtfully.

"I know right?" Maddie grinned. "Doesn't that sound like something straight out of a police show?"

What in the name of Merlin was a "police show"? Scorpius decided to ignore her strange quirks and concentrate on the facts.

It seemed like this falling-out was mostly due to Geoffrey Podmore insulting Potter's family, then. Not something that could help with Scorpius' situation. Then again, Potter calling Podmore a bully sounded promising.

"Do you know why Potter called Podmore a bully?" Scorpius asked.

"Mm, something about the Slytherins, I think?" Maddie tapped a finger against her cheek. "I can't really remember. It all happened so fast, y'know?"

Perfect _._ That was just what he wanted to hear.

"That's alright. Thanks for filling me in, Maddie," said Scorpius, completely genuine in his thanks. He pushed himself off from his chair and nodded in goodbye. No need to stay smack-dab in the middle of the Common Room for longer than necessary.

"Hey, wait!" Maddie called out suddenly. Scorpius turned to face her again, curious to see what more she had to say. "Have you finished the Potions essay due Monday yet?"

"Yes, I finished it uh, a couple days ago," replied Scorpius carefully.

"Great! You can help me with it!" Maddie said brightly. "I'm having a lot of trouble understanding the uses of different vials. What does glass or gold have to do with how the potion works? Honestly."

"I'd rather n -" Scorpius cut his instinctive reply off. Maddie had helped him out, and she was willing to talk with him - helping her out in return wouldn't be that much of a pain. "- I mean, sure. No problem."

"Awesome!" Maddie flashed Scorpius a wide grin. "When and where?"

"It's getting late, so tomorrow morning, about nine? I'll meet you at the library entranceway," Scorpius decided. He was growing fairly familiar with the library, and it was a nice place to stay hidden. It was an ideal location.

"Sounds good to me," Maddie bounced down from her chair. "I'll try to get some stuff done on my own tonight then! See you."

"See you," Scorpius said shortly in return.

Scorpius expected her to leave immediately, but instead, Maddie paused. She glanced back.

"So we're friends now, right?" she asked brightly.

 _Friends?_ They had barely talked!

Merlin save him from bewildering Muggleborns who threw around the word 'friend' so casually.

Scorpius sighed, running a hand through his hair. Ah, what did it matter? If she wanted to be friends, then they'd be friends. It wasn't like he could imagine any major disadvantages to the situation.

"..sure," replied Scorpius finally, carefully maintaining a blank face. Maddie remained unperturbed at his neutral expression, simply smiling harder in response. Waving a short goodbye, she pranced off to her room.

Scorpius decided to do the same, minus the prancing. He glanced to the left and to the right before darting towards the staircase. He successfully arrived to the staircase without any issues and began to trudge up to his room.

He felt a smile spreading across his face despite himself.

No. _No._ This was bad. He was letting his guard down, for the _second time_. He needed to be prepared, not stupidly happy. He was sure this would turn out absolutely _wonderfully_ for him in the end, really. Ha.

Scorpius forced a small frown onto his face. He needed to be _ready._

(But what if...what if…

…things actually turned out well?)

* * *

As James stepped into the Great Hall's entranceway early in the morning, a loud fanfare of out-of-tune trumpets rang out across the room. He had just barely moved through the doorway when a load of some greasy, pudding-like substance was dumped onto his head.

He spat out a bit of the disgusting mixture that had fallen into his mouth, then scowled. This was obviously some kind of retaliation from Podmore, but really, this was a pretty weak move. James wiped some of the mess off from his eyes.

His hands were striped green and silver.

Ah, so that was Podmore's goal. Publicly shame him as a Slytherin-lover. Well played, ponce, well-played. Except, of course, for the fact that James didn't really care.

Ignoring the soft snickers filling the Hall, James slopped his way to an empty section of the Gryffindor table and sat himself down with a loud squelch. He grabbed a chocolate croissant and bit into it with a bit more force than necessary.

It tasted like green-silver mud.

James' scowl deepened.

"Mr. Potter!"

Sighing profusely, James turned around, cocking an eyebrow at the source of the voice - an irate Headmistress MacDonald.

"Yes, Headmistress?" James said brightly. "I am indeed James Sirius Potter. Would you like something from me, madam?"

That got a few laughs from his housemates. That was nice- he could use what little goodwill he could get.

"You know exactly what I want from you, Mr. Potter!" the headmistress snapped, eyeing the trail of slop James had tracked from the entranceway to his seat. "I expect you to clean your mess up immediately."

"Headmistress, madam, don't you think I'd have better things to do than to paint myself silver and green?" James said mildly, shooting her a charming grin. She didn't seem awfully impressed.

"I've dealt with you enough over the past three years to recognize your handiwork on sight, Mr. Potter," she said drily, raising a thin eyebrow. "A prank backfiring may be fine karma for you, but other students deserve a clean hall to eat in."

 _I've blamed you for enough to know when to blame you on sight_ , James mentally translated. He let out a short breath from his nose. He had enough experience to know when he was beat. There was little chance that he'd be able to convince Headmistress MacDonald that this wasn't either him or Fred.

So then, why not embrace it?

James laughed - a bit shrilly, perhaps, but he laughed nevertheless.

"You caught me, Headmistress," James declared with a winning grin, though anger still lurked in his eyes. "But you got one thing wrong, madam. This prank didn't backfire. No, it worked exactly the way it meant to!"

"And by that you mean..." MacDonald trailed off, looking exasperated with his antics.

"Madam - " James cocked his head to the side. "- isn't it obvious?"

In one swift movement, James crawled his way onto the table and jumped up.

"Mr. Potter, get down immediately!"

James spun around once, excess bits of the mixture splattering all around him, then gave a deep bow. He straightened up, meeting the Headmistress' eyes.

"Clearly, I'm promoting inter-house relations!" James cried, still grinning wildly. "I found it very sad that everyone is so rude and - dare I say it - _prejudiced_ against the little bittle first year Slytherins. Is this really what we want them to think Hogwarts students are like? So I figured that I'd take the first step myself to show that not everyone hates them!"

James waved at the Slytherin table.

"You aren't all bad!" he hollered.

"Thanks, Potter!" someone called back after a moment, clearly half-choked from laughter. James could see that most of the Slytherin table was in a similar state. He nearly started snickering himself at the blond firstie who had fallen face-first onto his plate from laughing too hard.

The other houses were noticeably chillier. James could swear that he could sense the Ravenclaws' indifference boring into his back. And the Gryffindors – the less said about them, the better. At least the Hufflepuffs seemed to be contenting themselves with mild disapproval.

MacDonald pinched her nose and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter," she said, voice clipped. "I'm sure the Slytherins are doing well enough without your... help."

"Of course you'd think that," James muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something?" MacDonald snapped, eyes blazing.

James shook his head hurriedly.

"Now, in the name of Merlin, would you get off the table and clean your mess?" MacDonald hissed.

The sad thing was that James had seen her much angrier than this before.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for this mess, and another ten for disobedience. And detention with Professor Boot for the next two nights!"

Though, forty points in one morning was a new record for him. Wisely deciding that it wasn't a good idea to antagonize the headmistress any further, James hopped down from the table.

Whipping out his wand, he cast a quick _Scourgify_ on the nearest splatter of slop. The moment the mauve-coloured charm hit the mixture, James could tell he had made a terrible mistake. The mixture immediately began to dangerously bubble and expand.

" _Tergeo!_ " James tried, thinking fast. While obviously Podmore (or whoever had made the substance) had woven a countercharm against _Scourgify_ , there was a chance that they had forgotten about other cleaning charms.

James swore under his breath when the spell did a fat lot of nothing. He only knew one other cleaning charm, and he hadn't gotten much of a chance to practice it yet. Still, it was fairly obscure – he had only run into it in a few dusty books. If he could successfully cast it, it would probably do the trick.

He flicked his wand to the right, then swished it in a half-arc back towards the bubbling mess.

" _Eradisordes!_ " he cried loudly. He chewed on his lip, waiting in panicked anticipation for the charm to hit the slop.

Just as he had hoped, the dangerously bubbling mixture disappeared on coming in contact with the Purifying Charm. Thank Merlin for obscure household charms. And thank Merlin for his dearest mother, who had made sure that all her children knew the value of cleaning up after themselves.

James turned around to smile at the Headmistress, who had been watching the scene carefully a few steps away.

"Don't worry, madam, I've got this handled," said James.

MacDonald just sighed, looking at him with - was that _disappointment?_

"You're a very talented boy. That was a very difficult charm," she mourned. "The things you could do if you were a bit more serious..."

She wished that he was _more serious_?!

James bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't. He had already lost enough points for his house today, even if he hadn't been the one to set the prank. Instead, he went back to dealing with the mess, silently fuming.

He had just finished purifying the second splatter when the sound of Podmore's shrieking laughter hit his ears. James didn't bother to pay him any heed.

"Wow, you're good at this, aren't you, Jamie?"

James ignored him. He cast another _Eradisordes_ , swishing his wand forcefully. He scowled when the spell failed. Maybe he needed a bit more practice.

"Maybe you could get a job as the caretaker after you graduate. I mean, Fogarty's got to find a replacement somewhere, right?"

James _ignored him._

"Then again, I guess you wouldn't want to take the only job your brother could get."

James inhaled sharply. He twisted around to shoot a deathly glare at Podmore, who was casually munching on an apple at the table. Podmore met his gaze without flinching, then took another loud bite of the apple, a slight smirk on his face.

This was unacceptable.

"Tell me, Podmore," snapped James. "Do you know what the Purifying Charm does?"

"I imagine it… purifies things?" Podmore drawled.

"Oh, yes," James flashed his teeth in a facsimile of a smile, "Oh, yes it does. Now, question two – do you understand Wagyield's Laws of Intent and Belief?"

"Never heard of them," said Podmore with a snort.

"Of course you haven't," James said dismissively. "The basic concept is this – a charm's effect is directly correlated with how the caster views the object or person being affected. And you know what, Podmore? Right now, I think of you as a filthy piece of grime. One that should be, say, _purified_ from this school."

"Are you threatening me with a _household charm?_ " Podmore laughed incredulously. "And I thought you couldn't get any more pathetic - "

James carefully looked towards the faculty table. It seemed like all the staff were currently engrossed in their meals. Since it was early on a Saturday morning, not many students were around, and it seemed like most of them had already turned their attention away from James, thinking the show was over. It was a perfect opportunity.

" _Eradisordes!_ " James murmured, aiming the charm to clip by Podmore's hair and land safely in a bowl of cereal. The deep blue spell tore a strip through the back of Podmore's head, leaving a painfully red patch where it passed.

The bowl rattled on the table, now completely empty.

Podmore touched the back of his head, perceptibly paling.

"You assaulted me!" Podmore cried, his voice squeaking slightly. He desperately tried to comb his remaining hair over his new bald spot.

"Really? I assaulted you?" James raised an eyebrow. "You mean, you – Geoffrey Podmore, Gryffindor honour student – were taken down by a _household charm?_ That's a bit _pathetic_ , isn't it?"

Podmore snarled. He rose up from the table.

"Well played, Potter," he hissed. His eyes flashed. "But this isn't over."

The effect Podmore was going for was kind of ruined by his terrible haircut, if James was completely honest.

"Enjoy your new colours, by the way – I don't think they'll be going anywhere for a long, long while," Podmore shot vindictively before rushing out of the Hall, presumably to fix his horrible hairstyle. James took some pleasure in seeing Podmore step in the green-silver slop on his way out.

He glanced at his green-silver hand and shrugged. Now that he had gotten one over Podmore, the colours didn't really bother him that much.

James, 1: Podmore, 0.

* * *

Albus brushed off the breadcrumbs from his face. Maybe he had laughed a little too hard - shoving his face onto his plate was a bit much. But he couldn't help it. He had missed James' antics. He had barely seen James during the past two years, and when he had seen him, it felt like James was rather gloomy thanks to his time in Hogwarts.

It was nice seeing James act all over-the-top and dramatic.

If only it weren't all an act.

Still, it was a very convincing act- it seemed like all the first years at the table (only four, including Albus – Emily and Chris were still fast asleep) had completely bought into it.

"I can't believe James Sirius would do something like that!" Albus heard Quinn exclaim excitedly beside him. Glancing over, he saw that Quinn seemed to be for _once_ not irritated with everything around him.

"Well, I'm not surprised," responded Vance, who was sitting on Quinn's other side. He took a small bite out of his toast, not expanding on his reasoning.

"Why not?" demanded Melanie after a moment, curiosity clearly getting the better of her. "The Gryffindors do hate us quite a bit."

Vance took another bite of his bread and swallowed. He stared at the table with an unreadable expression for a short moment. Finally, he opened his mouth once, twice, then sighed.

"He... helped me out a little while ago," Vance admitted in a quiet voice. He tapped a finger rapidly against the side of his plate - some kind of nervous tic, perhaps? "One of my Hufflepuff cousins didn't really take nicely to my Sorting and rounded up a couple of friends to 'teach me a lesson'. James happened to pass by and chased them away. They haven't bothered me since."

Albus' eyes widened. Vance had nearly been attacked? And he hadn't said anything?

"You should tell us about things like this, Vance," Albus said, feeling put-out. "What if they _had_ gone after you again? Or they had gone after us instead? No matter what you think of us - "

"What _I_ think of _you?_ " Vance laughed bitterly. "Could you drop your friendly act? I hate it."

"My friendly act?" Albus repeated defensively, scowling. "I'm not acting."

"Don't think I haven't noticed that I'm the only one you still call by last name, _Stevens,_ " Vance snapped, his voice cracking near the end. He quickly averted his gaze. "I get it, you hate me. My family hates me. Everyone hates Vance, right?"

His family hated him? Did that mean what Albus thought it could mean?

"Don't act like a victim, _Vance_." Melanie rolled her eyes from across the table. She leaned closer, smirking. "You're the one who decided that you didn't want to get along with us evil Slytherins."

"Did you get disowned?" Albus blurted out. Vance flinched visibly. He shot a glare at Albus, but the glare had little bite to it. Tears were welling in the corners of Vance's eyes.

Albus felt a twinge of guilt.

"That's none of your business, isn't it?" said Vance, his voice still unsteady. He wiped angrily at his face. "I don't need your pity."

Albus avoided Vance's gaze, scratching his cheek self-consciously. Taking a breath, he looked back towards Vance. He had said that he'd try to support Vance if he ran into trouble with his family. Now was the time to make good on that promise.

"Hey," Albus said quietly. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, V - Tim."

Albus leaned over Quinn, ignoring his squawking complaints, and offered his hand towards Vance. He gave Vance a small smile.

"But I don't really care," lied Albus. Oh, he cared. Vance had been an utter git for most of the past couple weeks. It would take a little more than family troubles for Al to get over that. But he _was_ willing to give Vance a small chance, if nothing else.

Albus carefully widened his smile.

"Let's be friends, Tim," Albus offered. "Shake on it?"

Vance eyed Albus' hand suspiciously. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Finally, slowly, Vance took Albus' hand and tentatively shook it.

His grip was weaker than Albus had expected.

"Great, are you _done?_ Now get off me, Alfred," snapped Quinn, pushing Albus back onto his seat. "You could've just gotten up to shake his hand, y'know. No need to lean over me."

"Too much of a pain!" Albus explained brightly.

Quinn rolled his eyes.

"St – Alfred," said Vance suddenly, not sounding angry for once. He looked up at Albus, hesitant. "… Thank you."

Albus eyed Vance for a slow moment before shrugging.

"No problem," Albus said simply. His face grew more serious. "But guys, I think we've got problems. I don't think James set that prank. And if he didn't set that prank… it probably means someone's got a grudge against him for siding with Slytherins. And sooner or later – that someone's probably gonna come after us."

Melanie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he definitely didn't do that to himself. His _face_ when he was stomping down to the Gryffindor table…"

"He was way too angry," Albus agreed. Besides, he knew that James didn't do pranks – and if he did, Albus was sure he would be smarter than to set it to go off on himself in the Great Hall. There was no way that James did it.

He looked around at his fellow first years. "We've got to be careful. Stay in groups. Agreed?"

There were quiet mumbles of agreement all around.

"Speaking of which - " Albus got up from his seat, grinning. "Anyone want to come to the library with me? I've still got a couple inches left on the vial properties essay for Potions."

"And you finally reveal your true motives," snarked Quinn. "I was thinking you were acting too nice for a Slytherin."

"Slytherins can be nice too," Albus said mildly.

"Only if we want something," Quinn shot back.

"You're a bit of a downer, aren't you?" commented Albus, crossing his arms and gazing down at Quinn with what he hoped was a judging look. Quinn easily met his gaze, looking unimpressed.

"Sorry, Alfred," Melanie cut into their argument. "I'm going to work on the essay with Emily in the afternoon, in the Common Room. You're welcome to join if you want to."

"I kind of want to get it done this morning. Thanks though," said Albus, rather disappointed. He glanced over at Quinn and Vance. "Either of you interested?"

"I'm already done. Did it last weekend," said Vance.

"Same here," Quinn replied, smirking. "Better a downer than a procrastinator, in my opinion."

Albus scoffed, scowling slightly. He grabbed his bag, hoisting it over his shoulder.

"Fine," said Albus. "I'll go by myself, then."

"Breaking your suggestion to move in groups already, Alfred?" remarked Quinn, still sounding smug.

Albus stuck out his tongue at Quinn before heading off. He paused before the Great Hall's entranceway, however, deciding to wait for James to clear the mess. It didn't take long for James to come along and easily charm away the silver-green slop. Albus was impressed - he hadn't even _heard_ of the spell _Eradisordes_ before!

James was so cool.

"Thanks!" Albus said cheerfully as he stepped through the entranceway.

"You're welcome," James replied shortly, not even bothering to look towards Albus. Instead, he moved back towards the Gryffindor table, probably to clean up the last few splatters. Albus felt jilted, but resisted the urge to call out to him.

He had _known_ that when he decided to come as Alfred Stevens, he'd have to do without his family's help.

That included James.

(It just felt different being completely ignored by his own _brother._ )

Gazing downwards, Albus trudged towards the library. He wasn't paying that much attention to his surroundings, which is why he yelped when a thin hand suddenly clasped onto his shoulder. Albus flung off the hand and jumped back, eyes wide.

"Calm down, firstie. It's me."

Albus looked up slowly towards the feminine voice. He cocked his head to the side.

"You're one of our prefects? Xia Mulciber?" said Albus, confused. "Did you want something?"

"Well, I happen to need something from the library as well," Mulciber explained, giving Albus a toothy smile. It rather reminded him of a crup's snarl. "And I couldn't leave a Slytherin first year to go traipsing in the hallways all by himself, now could I?"

"Sure you could," Albus said, still on guard. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

Mulciber snorted. "You're paranoid. That's good – I like to see that in my underclassmen. It makes me feel like you're less likely to get yourself hurt."

Albus stayed silent. He had found that people tended to reveal more without a cooperative conversational partner. Merlin knew he had gotten enough practice trying to pry details about his parents' life out of them.

"Look, I just want to talk," Mulciber said finally, throwing up her hands in defensive manner. "That's all. Surely that isn't that much to ask?"

"Alright," said Albus reluctantly. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Tell me," Mulciber started, beginning to walk again with long strides. Albus quickly trotted after her. "How are your classes? How do the other houses treat you?"

"My classes are okay," Albus replied carefully. He shrugged half-heartedly. "The other houses – well, on the good days, they treat us like tame runespoors."

Mulciber snorted. "And on the bad days?"

"They treat us like we're the kids of a Flesh-Eating Slug and a Manticore," Albus said bluntly.

Mulciber laughed loudly, her eyes crinkling. For someone whose smile looked downright diabolical, her laughter seemed awfully genuine.

"I like you, Alfred. You seem like a smart kid, and you've gotten used to our world very quickly," said Mulciber, glancing back towards Albus.

Albus shrugged uncomfortably. He didn't deserve credit for getting used to the world he had lived in since birth.

"Did you know that things aren't that bad for us upper years?" Mulciber said casually. "Oh, sure, there's some people who're still wary around us, but most people have done away with most of their prejudices - at least towards Slytherins. Fun tip - stay away from the Ravenclaws, Stevens. There's a lot that don't like your kind."

"My kind?" Albus repeated, eyebrows rising.

"You know what I mean," Mulciber said dismissively. "From what I've heard, before the war, Slytherin took in the cunning, the ambitious, and the blood purists. When it no longer became publicly acceptable to be a blood purist, they started to hide - and the second-best choice was, of course, Ravenclaw. Now, Ravenclaw takes in the intelligent, the wise, and the blood purists. I should know. Most of those blood purists in Ravenclaw were my childhood friends."

Mulciber had been childhood friends with blood purists? Eyeing her nervously, Albus slowed his pace a tad, increasing the gap between them. To his embarrassment, Mulciber glanced back, immediately noting the increased distance with a raised eyebrow. She rolled her eyes.

"Calm down, firstie. There's a reason why they _were_ my friends," she said dryly, looking back forwards.

They walked in silence for a few heartbeats.

"Anyways - is that why you decided to talk to me?" asked Albus finally. "To tell me that it 'gets better'?"

"No," Mulciber said shortly, seriously. "I'm talking to you because it _won't_ get better. Not if nothing is done about Geoffrey Podmore."

Albus frowned. He recognized that name – James had complained about him enough during the summer. He knew that Podmore had a grudge against Slytherins and people from Dark families, but not much else.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Albus.

"Despite what you might think, most people in the other houses aren't actually wankers," Mulciber said frankly. "It just so happens that in his first year, Podmore gathered up a group of little like-minded lackeys and either charmed or bullied every non-Slytherin in his year into seeing his way. He did the same for the current second years, and he's planning to do the same to the kids in your year. He's mostly succeeded already, I believe."

"So you're saying that most people aren't wankers, it's just that they're either cowards or dumb," Albus surmised. It did go along with what he had seen so far – people from other houses had been nice enough to him during the first week of school. But come the second week, and most everyone was either antagonistic or downright ignoring him. If Podmore had gotten to them during that first week of school…

Mulciber snickered. "Exactly. I like to imagine that the Gryffindors are cowards and the Ravenclaws are dumb. I suppose the Hufflepuffs would be a mix of both."

"That means there's two problems," said Albus thoughtfully. "One, some people have been charmed into believing Podmore is right because he was 'nice' or something. Two, everyone else is going along with Podmore because they're afraid of what his supporters will do to them if they don't. But the problems are connected - if Podmore's lackeys are dealt with, then the ones following Podmore out of fear will back off."

"You catch on quick," Mulciber commented, sounding rather pleased.

"What do you expect us to do, though?" asked Albus curiously. "We're first years."

"I don't expect you to do anything, Alfred!" Mulciber said, obviously false horror injected in her voice. "That might be _breaking the rules!_ "

Oh, so that was how she wanted to play it.

"Alright, you don't want us to do anything. I get it," said Albus. He coughed. "But, you know, hypothetically, what _would_ you suggest we do?"

"I wouldn't suggest anything even _hypothetically!_ " Mulciber cried in a sickeningly sweet voice. She glanced at Albus quickly then smirked. "But you know – you hear a few things here and there, attending Hogwarts for five years. For example – did you know that Headmistress MacDonald takes academic misconduct _very_ seriously?"

"Does she?" Albus said mildly, playing along.

"Oh, she does indeed," said Mulciber in a stage whisper. "In fact, one student has been expelled for cheating in my time at Hogwarts, and another two have gotten temporarily suspended! It's become a terrible scandal for families, you know? The idea that their child isn't smart enough to get through exams without cheating – or isn't smart enough to cheat without getting caught."

"I see," Albus deadpanned.

"No one talks about Yolanda Finch-Fletchley anymore, not even in whispers." Mulciber shook her head, an expression of false sadness on her face. "And people don't like to interact with Henry Peakes or Jason Halkirk – what if the Headmistress thought they were cheaters by association? It's a black spot on their records that they can't ever escape."

"So you want us to _not_ frame Podmore for cheating," Albus clarified.

"Exactly." Mulciber said, smirking. She glanced around, taking in their surroundings. "Looks like we're nearly at the library. Before we get there – tell me, what do you think?"

"I'll think about it," Albus replied noncommittally. "But I don't think me or any of my friends know enough to get away with something so difficult."

"You're all Slytherin," said Mulciber, wearing a falsely grievous expression of disappointment. "I'm sure you can think of something."

They finally arrived at the library and stopped right before the entranceway. Mulciber smiled sharply at Albus.

"This is where we go our separate ways," Mulciber said, looking down at him. "Do think about what I didn't suggest."

She strode into the library, swiftly disappearing between two bookshelves.

Albus didn't know what to think. As far as he could tell, Podmore _was_ a problem and he _did_ need to be dealt with. And he was also sure that successfully framing him for cheating would be a great way to get him out of the picture.

However, Albus doubted that a bunch of first years could pull such a scheme off, and he doubly doubted that Mulciber believed that they could do it. Albus figured Mulciber had three possible motives. One, she wanted to put her own private plan into motion, so she wanted them to act as a distraction. Two, she planned to enact the framing plan herself in the future, and wanted them to act as guinea pigs. Three, she couldn't be bothered to deal with the situation herself since it didn't affect her, but she was nice enough to give them an idea to work off of.

In Albus' opinion, motives one or three were the most likely. If they failed at framing Podmore, then the faculty would be even more on guard in the future, making it more difficult for Mulciber to successfully pull off the plan.

Either way, it didn't matter. Albus wasn't dumb – he knew that cribbing spells were very difficult to create and even more difficult to successfully use. You needed to be very strong in Charms to even think about it. Maybe she had hoped that a 'Muggleborn' wouldn't know that, or had hoped that he was arrogant enough to believe he could pull it off. She had hoped wrong.

Anyways, he had more important things to worry about – namely, his Potions essay. He really wasn't sure what else he could write about the properties of vials, and he needed to get this done by Monday.

Putting Mulciber's suggestion in the back of his mind, Albus headed into the library.

* * *

A/N: Podmore was eating an apple in that scene to make him seem like even more a douche, of course.

It's too bad about that framing plan though. If only Albus knew someone good at Charms...

Oh, and I want to take a moment to say that if you spot a spelling/grammar mistake, please point it out! I do proofread the chapters a couple times before publishing them, but I don't have a beta, and I might've missed some things.


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